The Hardest Test
by Shy Snootles
Summary: The story takes off a few months after the birth of the New Republic, with Anakin Skywalker as VicePresident of Mon Mothma's government. An unknown menace will threaten the newborn peace. Continuation of Salvation and A New Life.
1. Chapter 1

Notes: All my long stories (and this one turned out to be 190 pages long, no less) are very slow-paced, so I ask you to be patient and stick with me.

I wrote the first 100 pages (the first five chapters) of this story before the release of ROTS, so I didn't know what would make Anakin ultimately turn to the Dark Side. Please, bear with me.

Also, I never read any EU novels, so some events and planets mentioned in this story will probably have nothing to do with the events portrayed in those books.

Without any further delay, here it goes "The Hardest Test." I hope it's worthy of your time. Thank you all.

* * *

Luke Skywalker looked at his father's long, slender fingers, deftly putting together the final pieces of his new lightsaber. Watching his father work was like witnessing the finest act of craftmanship. The way those fingers handled every tiny piece and attached it was mesmerizing. It seemed as if he had spent his whole life making lightsabers for a living. Quite a contrast with all the painstaking hours he had spent in Obi-Wan's hut making his own.

At last, Anakin looked up at his son with a boyish triumphant smile and held out the finished lightsaber to him. Reverently, Luke took it in his hand. It was lighter than his own but just as compact and, in short, a work of art. The handle was longer also. No wonder, since his father's hands were bigger than his. He had maintained the proportions perfectly and adapted them for his bigger size. He caressed the bright, silver handle, and with a look of admiration, held it back to his father.

Anakin shook his head with a smile.

"You do it," he invited.

Luke blinked in astonishment when he realized his father was inviting him to ignite the lightsaber first. He shook his head vehemently.

"No, it's yours. A lightsaber must be first turned on by its owner."

Anakin arched an eyebrow in amusement.

"Don't tell me you also believe in that age-old superstition," he chided fondly.

Luke blushed.

"Well, I was told that a lightsaber should be ignited by its owner first, so that both of them can attune to each other through the Force and..."

"Come on, Luke," Anakin grinned. "A lightsaber is just a weapon, nothing more, nothing less. It's not alive. Of course, after a time, the owner gets used to it, especially since they manufactured it to fit their body proportions and special needs; but that's all. The Force helps to keep both weapon and owner in tune, but it's got nothing to do with the saber itself."

Luked looked down, feeling embarrassed.

"Besides," Anakin's voice was suddenly full of unashamed affection, "who better to ignite my new lightsaber than the best part of me?"

Immediately, Luke's eyes met his father's and Anakin smiled tenderly at his son, his eyes reflecting all the love and pride he felt for his child.

Not knowing how to react to such words that had disarmed him completely, Luke took a deep breath and, stepping back a little, ignited his father's lightsaber.

The weapon surged to life with a soft, electric buzz, and the room filled with an orange glow.

"WOW!" Luke couldn't hold back an exclamation of surprise. His father certainly had eclectic tastes. The lightsaber's totally unexpected colour threw him for a loop. The blade was yellow, with a soft orange glow about it. He looked at it in fascination. "What kind of gemstone did you use?" he asked.

"A yellow topaz with ruby incrustations," Anakin replied.

Luke whistled in admiration. The skill necessary to forge such a weapon went far beyond anything he would be able to master in decades. He swung it around for some time, amazed at the lightness and ease with which the weapon responded to him. Finally, he extinguished it and handed it back to his father.

"It's awesome, Father. Just awesome. And I like the colour. It's cool."

Anakin let out an impish smile.

"I like it, too. In the final years of the Republic, most Jedi had either green or blue lightsabers."

"Why?" Luke was interested in every little story about the everyday life in the Old Republic. He wanted to know everything about that time, how it was to live back then.

"I have no idea," Anakin answered honestly. "Fashion."

"Fashion?" Luke asked. From what his father had told him, the Jedi didn't seem like a group that even considered something as frivolous and materialistic as fashion. They were the closest thing to ascetic, with their practically monastic lives, celibacy and all.

Anakin shrugged.

"It wasn't like that centuries ago, from what I read. Everything was more colourful, more open in every way. But in the end, it seemed as if we were all clones of each other. It became a sort of unspoken agreement between all of us, lightsabers included. The only one who didn't fit the others' choice was Master Windu." A fleeting expression of searing pain and guilt crossed Anakin's features, but it passed as quickly as it appeared. "He had a purple lightsaber. I liked it a lot. I thought it was..." he looked at his son and mischievously qualified, "...cool." It was a word that had become very popular among the Coruscant youth lately, and Luke had ended up picking it up. Anakin loved it whenever his son used that expression. He sounded like the typical young man of his time. Which was exactly what he was. Anakin was untold happy for the fact that his son had had a normal youth and teenage years. Quite the opposite to what he had.

Luke blushed a bright crimson at his father's playfulness. It had been over four months since the birth of the New Republic. In that time, they had come to know each other so well that from the outside, it was impossible to tell where Anakin ended and Luke began and vice versa. And Luke's respect and admiration for Anakin had increased exponentially. Not only as his father and a Jedi Master, but as his superior officer in the Fleet and his Vice-President. Anakin had encouraged him to call him "Dad" several times, because he claimed that "Father" was too formal. But Luke simply couldn't bring himself to call him anything but "Father." He just loved that word. He had practised it since he was a little boy, dreaming of a different life, time and place where he could have a father to call by that precious word. Now that his dream had come true, he just couldn't stop saying it, both out loud and in their mental exchanges. And he thanked the heavens every single day for having that wondrous honour and joy in his life.

It had taken him four months to convince his father to make a new lightsaber. Anakin had been procrastinating all that time, but Luke had insisted, and persisted, knowing only too well the reason behind his father's delaying tactics, and only too aware of the fact that the longer it took, the more difficult it would be for Anakin to wield a lightsaber again.

Today, Anakin had taken the first step. Now Luke had to help him to take the next, and hardest, step of all.

"Now that you have a new lightsaber, what do you say to a sparring partner?" he softly asked, drawing out his own lightsaber.

Anakin paled and stiffened at that.

"No, Son, I'm sorry. I can't."

Luke stepped closer to his father and put his hand on his shoulder.

"Come on, Father. I can't use a 'seeker' forever. I need a real person to practise with. My abilities with the lightsaber will rust at this rate."

Anakin shook his head, trembling now.

"Father, please. It's high time to leave the past behind, where it belongs," Luke sat down beside the quivering man, wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed lovingly. "I know you'll never hurt me. I trust you with my life. If I can do this, why can't you?"

Slowly, Anakin's pain-filled eyes met his son's.

"I-I'm afraid," he stuttered. "The memories... I can't shake them off. I just c-c..."

Luke bent forward and leaned his forehead on his father's temple.

"Shhhh, it's all right. I'll help you. We'll help each other," he whispered. "We need to do this and you know it. The first step's always the hardest. We only have to be strong enough to take it," he squeezed his father's shoulder again. "I'm here with you. We can do this, together. Trust me. Trust us. We can do it. We _can_ do it!"

Anakin sought the warmth of his child's blue gaze and lost himself in its love and infinite trust. Luke really wasn't afraid of doing this. He had the utmost trust in him. He could see how eager his son was to practise with him, to feel free to spar with his father as a team, not as enemies. Luke needed this badly to put those terrifying memories to rest for good and replace them with new memories of sparring _with_ his father, not fighting _against_ him. Luke wanted to learn from him, he wanted his father to teach him, to be the master he had so longed for. But if they let Anakin's fear win, it would always stand there, mocking them, reminding them of the nightmare they had failed to conquer.

Anakin swallowed the lump in his throat and biting his lower lip, he nodded once, acknowledging the truth in his son's words.

Luke smiled and, with a final squeeze on his father's shoulder, he stood up and walked to the centre of the big room.

They were in the late Emperor's Palace, that had been the Old Republic's Jedi Temple. The evil tyrant had redecorated it to suit his dark tastes, but thankfully, he had respected the high ceilings and the big-spaced rooms that would be most welcome now. Mon Mothma, following Anakin's heartfelt suggestion, had agreed for the building to be remodelled as it had been in the Old Days. A place of Wisdom, Light and Peace. They were still halfway, but a third part of the old Temple was already as it had been only three decades ago.

Anakin rose to his feet and crossed the room until he stood facing his son. He still trembled, but he made a valiant effort to suffuse his spirit with calm. He loved his child, he was one with the Force. It would be all right. For the two of them. They would soothe each other's remaining fears and nothing would ever stand between them. Not even the memories.

He ignited his lightsaber, and Luke responded in kind. They stood there, immobile, the buzzing lightsabers and their owners' breathing the only sounds audible in the room.

Luke's eyes softened at the sight of the sweaty, shaking hands holding the yellow weapon. This wasn't easy for him, either. His own memories of attacking his father in the second Death Star, his soul infused with hatred and fear, and cutting off his father's mechanical hand, returned to him in a sudden, brutal flashback, and his lightsaber trembled in his grasp.

To anyone who didn't know better it would look comical. Two formidable adversaries facing each other, both of them trembling like leaves, not daring to make a move.

Acting on a sudden impulse, Luke stepped back a little and started swinging his lightsaber in basic warming-up movements. Getting the hint, Anakin followed him suit and they started circling each other, describing harmless arcs around each other's form with their lightsabers, almost like two dancers, working in instinctive, eerie harmony. Their bodies moved lithely, noiselessly, as they 'danced' around one another, studying each other with ever-increasing admiration. Fear evaporated like a bad dream as they observed one another, mesmerized by the other's gracefulness.

After several minutes of perfectly synchronized movements, they slowed down until they stopped altogether, in a classic salute. Their eyes met beyond their blades and they smiled. Extinguishing their lightsabers, they let out a long breath and put their arms down.

They were speechless. It had been infinitely better than they had imagined this first time to be. Fear had been replaced by a soft hum of joyful excitement running up and down their spines. They _could_ do this. It was good and right. Their different styles had blended beautifully, complementing each other to perfection. And they had been only warming up!

"Incredible," Anakin managed to blurt out, not daring to breathe, lest he broke the magical spell.

Luke just nodded, his eyes wide open in wonder and boundless joy.

"What if you attack me now, so I can study your technique and your movements better?" Anakin asked, amazed at his own courage to make such a request.

"Only if _you_ attack me later so I can do some studying of my own," Luke replied, a teasing twinkle in his eyes.

"I can make no promises," Anakin said, his voice dropping an octave. "But I'll try," he muttered, taking a long, deep breath.

Luke stood still for a moment, closing his eyes and relaxing noticeably. When he opened them, he winked at his father, in an obvious attempt to ease any lingering fear in both of them, and with a respectful salute, he ignited his lightsaber. After asking his father's permission through his eyes, he surged forward with an impressive somersault. Anakin stepped back, giving his son a place to land before him. When he did, the big man blocked Luke's half-hearted blow effortlessly.

Luke displayed all the range of blows and pirouettes he had been taught, holding back the power of his lunges as much as possible. He gathered momentum as he progressed, until Anakin thought he was fighting a spinning top. Luke was bouncing on every place his feet touched and flew off in the opposite direction. He became a blur that reminded Anakin of Yoda when he had fought Count Dooku on Geonosis. He deflected his child's strokes by sheer instinct, since he couldn't see his form clearly and had no idea where the next blow was going to come from. If Luke could do that six months ago in the second Death Star, Anakin was learning a lesson in humility now. Luke could have killed him easily back then. Only now was he truly aware of how much his son had (mostly) held back before him and Palpatine.

When Luke had had enough of jumping and spinning around, he slowed down and showed off his most refined sword technique. Anakin could hardly keep his jaw from hitting the floor. He recognized movements out of all Seven Forms of Jedi fighting. In this lightsaber-to-lightsaber workout they were having, Luke was favouring Forms IV, VI and a bit less of Form VII, since this wasn't a fully-fledged fight. Even so, Anakin had the feeling that most of Luke's fighting was instinctive. From what his son had told him, Ben had only had time to teach him the basic movements of Form I, so that Luke could get used to the feel of a lightsaber and how to handle it. It was also obvious that Yoda, a Form IV master, had decided on a mixed Forms training. He had picked up movements out of all Seven Forms and put them together so Luke could have the most complete possible training. Luke had started training at 20 and it was no wonder Yoda had chosen this shockingly uncharacteristic approach. Consenting to train someone as "old" as his son had been miraculous enough, so it made sense that Yoda had no choice but to break his own rules all the way, given the limited time they would have at their disposal. Still, it was impossible that Luke had learnt all those things from Yoda. He had been by himself most of the time, especially when fighting _him_ on Bespin and on the second Death Star. Luke had improvised for the most part then, as he was improvising now; he could feel it.

Luke's instincts would never cease to amaze him. He was attuned to the Force and his own resources and abilities to a level Anakin couldn't even begin to fathom. Luke was sheer instinct, with a childlike innocence and curiosity that broke his heart; and with an endless hunger for improvement and betterment, with every possible meaning of the words. His boy was Goodness personified. And he tapped from that Goodness in everything he did. Anakin had never felt so safe and protected as when he basked in his child's heart-warming, soothing aura of selfless love.

When Luke had had enough and stopped, extinguishing his lightsaber, Anakin remained standing before him, gasping and staring at him as if seeing him for the very first time. Luke's respiration was mildly agitated as he looked at his father with barely restrained eagerness to know his opinion.

"Well?" he asked, excited like a little kid.

'_Let me catch my breath first,'_ Anakin sent through their mental link, unable to speak out loud.

Luke arched an eyebrow in amusement, clearly indicating he wasn't buying his father's apparent breathlessness. Anakin's health was perfect. He had made sure of that. The young man blushed furiously in awe and humility at the thought, as he did every time he realized the magnitude of what he had done. And he thanked the heavens once again for granting them that miracle.

"Would you mind telling me how do you do that?" Anakin asked, his voice dripping with admiration and wonder.

Luke's face turned a bright red. It seemed to him that he spent around 70% of his time with his father blushing.

"Your fighting style's simply fascinating," Anakin went on, making a great effort to pull himself together. "I would dare to say you've created a whole new Form of Jedi fighting. A blending of all Seven Forms into one perfect, harmonic style. Every new movement complements the one before in a never-ending crescendo. At this rate, you will be virtually invincible, Son."

Luke didn't know how his father did that. Whenever he spoke to him in that tone of voice, he couldn't stop blushing. It was so difficult to ignore his father's all-encompassing love and admiration! Well, it was his father, so he guessed that explained it all. The same could be said about him, anyway. Luke considered his father to be the wisest, gentlest, most admirable and loving person in the Universe.

"Ahhh... I didn't know about those Seven Forms of fighting," he managed to say. "Master Yoda simply told me that there were several forms of Jedi fighting, so, he was going to try teaching me the most relevant movements from all of them, so I could have the widest range of assets possible."

"And he succeeded," Anakin nodded. "I could see movements out of all Seven Forms. But you seem to favour Form IV most of all. No wonder, since it was Yoda's fighting style. But it suits you, too. It fits your physique."

"What's Form IV?" Luke asked.

Anakin made a very expressive gesture, waving his forefinger in the air in circles.

"It's the most acrobatic form of fighting. Somersaults, jumping, spinning, cartwheeling and such."

"And what's your favoured Form?" Luke questioned, walking up to his father, vividly interested.

"Form V," Anakin answered. "It's pretty aggressive, but I've always preferred to put an end to any fighting as soon as possible. You render your opponent useless and you can move on to more practical things." Anakin made an ironical, self-deprecating face. "As you know, I was never good at that special virtue known as patience."

Luke smiled at his father affectionately, sitting down on the chair Anakin had vacated a few minutes before. That might have been true in the past, but his father had learnt a lot in the last few months. Both of them had.

"And what does Form V consist of?"

Luke looked so much like a pupil in a classroom that Anakin had to smile at the gleam in his son's eyes. Such hunger for knowledge! He felt humbled all of a sudden. To have the honour of teaching such an amazing and extraordinary person! He prayed to be up to such precious task.

"It focuses on physical strength. You basically use your opponent's movements against them. Deflecting their blows and attacking relentlessly."

Luke nodded slowly, absorbing every word.

Quietly, Anakin sat down beside his child. Immediately, Luke turned to him, his eyes flashing with excitement and insatiable curiosity.

"Tell me, Father!" he asked, almost bouncing on his chair with enthusiasm.

Anakin burst out laughing in amusement. His son's eagerness was contagious. He looked so much like a little boy sometimes that Anakin had to hold back the impulse to hug the stuffing out of him.

"All right, Luke. I'll tell you everything I remember," he relented.

* * *

The two Jedi extinguished their lightsabers once more. They were somewhat breathless, but admiration and wonder lingered in the air like a warm and soothing bubble.

Luke stared at his father, speechless. The way Anakin had mastered his greatest fear and consented to spar with him, despite his stark terror of playing the aggressive party, filled him with more respect than he thought he could possibly feel for any being. It had taken him some time to see past his admiring filial feelings, and start studying his father's technique from an objective point of view, but he found it to be the most perfect, polished, elegant style he had ever seen. His father's tall, slender and graceful physique balanced his eminently agressive approach in an odd, fascinating way. Not one gratuitous movement. He was precision personified.

'_You fight like a dancer,'_ he sent through their link.

Anakin's eyes opened wide. It was the first time anyone defined his fighting style with such words. They were so honest that he blushed.

"I have a lot to learn," Luke said out loud now.

"We both have." Anakin reached out, mussing his child's hair in their favourite gesture of affection. "But I'm in no hurry. It's the journey that's important, not the ending."

Luke nodded, seeing something in his father's eyes. A sort of sad longing that broke his heart.

"What is it?" he asked.

Anakin closed his eyes, chastising himself for being so careless. He had forgotten that his son could read his soul. Nothing escaped those caring, sweet eyes.

"It is nothing. I just remembered something from when I was young, that's all."

"Something from your fellow Jedi?" Luke guessed.

Anakin nodded, looking away.

"Two fellow Jedi, to be exact. Luminara Unduli and her padawan, Barriss Offee."

"Tell me about them," Luke coaxed, feeling there was more there than met the eye.

Anakin looked up and took a deep breath.

"They had the kind of relationship I would have liked to have had with Obi-Wan." His gaze softened. "They were a team in every sense of the word. When they fought together... they were one. A bubble of togetherness seemed to envelope them, and nothing and no one could stand against them."

The tremor in his father's voice brought Luke closer to him.

"I guess I envied them for what they had. I longed to have such a partner. I always felt so lonely deep down. In the core of my being, I had no one... no one to connect with... to be free to share all the fears that haunted me, all my dreams and hopes. On the occasions when I managed to connect with Obi-Wan and we allowed our friendship to show, those were the most fulfilling moments for me. But I craved for more. I wanted to belong. Loneliness was my biggest fear. I... I needed... I just needed..."

Luke's heart ached with infinite pain and longing. The void in his father's soul resonated deep within him.

The only disadvantage of such a precious bond, if one could call it disadvantage, was that when his father was struck by the pain and horror he carried inside, the young man practically doubled over from it. It got magnified by his own love for his father and his hopelessness to heal something that would never be healed. Oh, he helped; he knew he did! But it was terrible to know that those feelings would accompany Anakin for as long as he lived. It was a lost battle, right from the start. And Luke's respect and veneration for his father knew no bounds. For his resignation and willingness to endure that torment for the rest of his life. It would make the sanest man go mad, and Luke didn't know what to do when that searing agony threatened to crush his father's soul.

His own pain and longing were more than a match for his father's feelings, though. Since he had been old enough to remember, he was seized by these bouts of fathomless need that no one and nothing could calm. An emptiness that threatened to swallow him alive. He woke up screaming in the middle of the night, and nothing Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen did, was enough to calm his shattered soul, always reaching out to a ghost that couldn't give him that which he was so desperate for.

Anakin felt responsible for all the things his children had lacked. Within their minds there was no deceiving, and Anakin felt like dying every time he shared Luke's memories and saw the depth of need his son had suffered for so many years.

But they had each other now. They could heal each other's pain and soothe those inconsolable feelings.

"Father," Luke whispered, his shaky voice filled with wonder, "are you asking me to be your partner?"

Anakin shook himself out of his painful reverie. He smiled self-deprecatingly and looked down.

"You know me too well, little one," he replied, resorting to humour, as he usually did whenever his emotions were on the verge of overwhelming him.

Luke prayed for the day to come when his father wouldn't need to resort to either irony or humour to admit he needed something. He seemed to feel guilty for needing anything. Especially because he knew his need would be satisfied, and he didn't consider himself worthy of it. He, who had denied people's very life.

He reached out and placed his hand on his father's shoulder. He squeezed gently.

"It will be my honour, Father," he responded, his voice conveying the depth of his feeling.

Anakin looked up at his son and shook his head.

"I can't ask you to do that. It's a completely different technique and one that I barely remember. It would take us years to make our different styles fit, and then learn to work as a team. And in the meantime, we would neglect our training. We could be caught unawares at any time. And I will never put your life at risk, Son."

"You don't have to ask, I'm offering," Luke replied. "Besides, it would be a shame for such a technique to be lost needlessly. The day we feel confident enough to train others, we'd better have as much knowledge to pass on to them as possible. And I for one, don't want any technique to be forgotten."

As usual, Luke disarmed him with his flawless logic. Once again, Anakin felt like a padawan in front of his son. He met his child's eyes, and the boundless love, trust and pride he saw there almost made him feel worthy of them.

"As you wish," he conceded, feeling undeserving of everything he enjoyed in his new life.

Luke returned the soft stare.

"Let us start," he encouraged happily.

Anakin took a deep breath and looked up, reaching into long-forgotten memories.

"First of all, each of them assumed a position and they maintained it in battle at all times, always protecting each other and not allowing anyone to trespass on the Force bubble they created. On one occasion, I witnessed their fully-fledged fight against a whole squadron. They started spiralling at top speed until they became a blur, a tornado that wiped out everything in its way. I couldn't even make out their forms. Somehow, they even managed to alter their molecular structure through the Force. I can't explain or understand how they did it. Even today, it awes and humbles me."

Luke was mesmerized, watching his father tell that incredible story. The emotion attached to his words struck a deep chord within him. A partner. Someone to trust with your very life, knowing that they'll protect you until the end, that they'll die with you and for you. An unbreakable bond made of love and respect, not necessity or obligation.

Anakin blinked and looked at his child.

"Do you really want to do this, Son? I don't want to impose on you."

"I _do_ want it, Father. I need it as much as you do," Luke replied, from the bottom of his heart.

And in those gentle blue eyes, so like his own, Anakin saw the truth. He smiled, his soul exploding with more gratitude than he would ever be able to express.

"All right, then. My lessons will be very disjointed, since I don't remember much, only the few times I saw them training and the scattered conversations I overheard throughout the years. But I'll do my best." He took a deep breath, realizing for the first time he was actually _training_ his son.

For a split second, he wondered if he would be up to such a responsibility. That young man's very soul was in his hands now. Oh, Force!

But then, he saw Luke's eyes sparkling with such joy and absolute trust that all fear and trepidation simply vanished.

* * *

Half an hour later, a sweaty Anakin turned to his son with a soft smile.

"Very good. That movement was exactly as I remembered it."

An equally sweating Luke smiled from ear to ear.

"And the fact that you're left-handed and I'm right-handed makes it even better, since we're covering opposite flanks and defending 100% of the field that way."

Luke nodded happily. This was just as perfect as he had imagined it to be. His father and him, training together, being a team. His heart was so full it couldn't be healthy!

"Now that we can manage to keep our positions, what do you say to throwing a few 'seekers' in to the mix and seeing what happens?" Anakin winked at his son, his eyes flashing youthfully.

Luke nodded enthusiastically, unable to believe the change in his father. He looked so young, so exuberant and full of life! It was amazing. There was a mischievous look in his eyes that told him this was how Anakin had been 25 years ago. Lively and in a permanent state of excitement. Enjoying life and milking it to the fullest. It was new to him, to see his father like this; but it was contagious, too. He wished it could be like this forever, although he knew only too well it just couldn't be.

"Four of them?" he suggested, with a smile.

"You got it!" Anakin replied, sounding too much like Han.

Luke's bulging eyes followed his father, as he returned with four 'seekers' and activated them. They remained suspended about two metres above the floor as Anakin assumed his position, back to back with his child.

They took a deep breath and concentrated deeply.

'_Ready?'_ Anakin asked, through their mind-link.

'_Ready, Father,'_ Luke replied eagerly.

They ignited their lightsabers in unison and the four seekers came to life, firing at will, just like Anakin had programmed them.

Anakin intended to absorb most of the attack this first time, instinctively protecting his child, but he found Luke wouldn't let him, literally pushing him out of the way, struggling to keep this between equals.

Anakin realized that in real battle, there would be no time for chivalrous behaviour, and that each of them would have to take care of his own problems while fighting to keep their space impregnable, always trusting their partner to keep their half of the field safe. If any of them doubted the other's ability to protect them both and tried to help him, it would be their undoing.

It took some time and it was the hardest thing of all, but little by little, Anakin granted Luke his half of the space. Cringing inside, he imagined how this would be for real. He shook the image off, praying he would never have to face it.

Only when he was finally capable of minding just two of the seekers, trusting Luke to take care of the other two, did the technique start working, and shining.

Anakin lost track of time and space, and feeling eerily in tune with his son's mind and movements, he concentrated on their joint efforts with everything he was.

Somehow, everything came to a dead stop and he found himself back to back with his child, his turned-off lightsaber in hand.

"Ho-ly shit!" An unmistakable voice echoed in the big chamber.

Father and son turned about and saw Han and Leia standing by the closed doors, staring at them as if they had grown another head.

"What?" Luke asked, somewhat dazzled.

"How in hell do you do _that_?" Han asked back, walking up to them, followed by an open-mouthed Princess. "I've never seen anything like that in my whole life! You were spinning and moving so fast I couldn't make out the shape of your bodies. They were all..." He paused, unable to find the words.

"Blurry," Leia provided, totally stunned.

Father and son looked at each other out of the corner of their eyes and nodded imperceptibly.

"Right, blurry," Han nodded at his beloved.

Blushing and feeling suddenly awkward, Luke tried to change the subject.

"Well, if you agreed to train, you would find out for yourself what it's like," he told his sister, looking at her pointedly.

Leia shook her head in frustration.

"Luke, with all my obligations I hardly have free time for myself and my family. Days just aren't long enough."

"That's an excuse and you know it," Luke challenged her, with an intense stare.

Brother and sister exchanged a long look, until Leia finally looked away, throwing up her hands in defeat.

"All right, all right, I'll try as soon as I can," she relented.

"Good!" Luke smiled happily.

"But please, not now," Han butted in. "We came here to tell you it's lunch time. You've been here for over four hours."

"Four hours?" Anakin and Luke exclaimed in unison.

"You know, honey?" Han began conversationally, wrapping his arm around Leia's shoulders and holding her close. "Sometimes, I think these two are the real twins, not you and your brother."

"Really," Leia agreed, pursuing her beloved's joke.

Luke punched Han's arm lightly, in feigned offence.

"Very funny," he teased.

"Well, maybe you're triplets," Han winked surreptitiously at Leia, who looked away to hide her mirth.

"Han, you're asking for it," Luke warned his friend.

"And what are you going to do? Levitate me, tie a thread around my ankles and carry me like a balloon?" Han challenged.

"Don't tempt me," Luke mock-threatened, following him and his sister out of the room.

Han looked back at him and stuck out his tongue.

Of course, Luke answered back accordingly.

Anakin followed the youngsters with a big smile on his face and shaking his head patronizingly.

* * *

Lunch progressed uneventfully. Luke and Anakin were quite hungry after all their exertions that morning, and they ate with gusto.

Sitting right in front of them, Han and Leia were once again lost in their own private world, staring deep into each other's eyes.

Chewie and Lando joined them shortly after, but the two lovers didn't hear their arrival or their greeting.

Luke made a pretended disgusted face and looked at his father, sitting on his left.

"Disgusting, don't you think?"

Anakin shrugged in amusement. He was very happy to see his daughter so in love with such a noble, caring and brave young man. He couldn't think of anyone more worthy than Han Solo.

His musings were interrupted by Luke, asking his sister to please pass him the basket with the bread.

Leia didn't even turn her head.

Luke turned his head and shrugged helplessly at his father, who shrugged back.

"What do you think? Hell froze over!" he commented. Next, he turned back to his sister and best friend. "Can any of you please pass me the bread?" He asked for a second, and then for the third time. "Bread-please."

No answer.

Lando chuckled and Chewie snorted hilariously.

Finally, Luke resorted to using the Force, and he levitated the basket up to his hand.

The two lovers saw the basket flying past them and they immediately turned their heads and watched Luke helping himself to a slice of bread.

"You could've asked instead of showing off," Han bugged.

"I did, three times," Luke replied tiredly.

"Well, you could get up and pick it up like the rest of us," Leia joined in Han's bugging.

"You're just jealous because you can't do it," Luke teased.

"Nya-nya-nya," Leia made a face, getting into the banter headfirst.

Luke looked up in an exaggerated display of patience and waved his hand, dismissing his sister's remark as one would a child's.

Leia watched her brother through slitted eyes.

Luke was calmly sipping at his juice when his glass suddenly tipped over, and spilled its remaining content all over his front. The young man yelped in surprise and jerked back, but it was too late already. He was soaking wet.

Everybody at the table jumped too at the realization that it hadn't been Luke's clumsiness that had tipped over the glass. Anakin's eyes opened wide in astonishment.

"Very good, little sister," Luke commended Leia, instantly knowing what had happened there. "I see you've been practising on your own."

Leia arched one eyebrow and looked at her brother smugly. But her self-satisfied expression was very short-lived, for a flying drop of sauce splashed her right on the tip of her nose, leaving it all red.

"Hey kid, you've got great aim!" Han congratulated Luke, earning his beloved's furious stare. He put up his hands soothingly, palms out, still unable to hide the twinkle in his eyes.

"A lot to learn, still you have," Luke gave a flawless impersonation of Yoda, that left Anakin with his mouth hanging open.

Leia had no idea whom her brother was imitating or if he was mocking her, but fuming now, she tried it harder than ever. An apple went flying aimlessly and Luke dodged it easily.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," he told his sister as the little potatoes on her plate rearranged and formed a smilie.

"You... You..." Leia pushed with her mind. The bowl containing all fruits overturned and a dozen pieces of fruit rolled all over the table, ending up on the floor.

Right then, her napkin floated up to her face and wiped away the sauce mark on her nose, and then wiped her mouth in an elegant sweep.

"Careful, little sister, or you'll end up in a mess," Luke told her patronizingly.

"That's it!" Leia exploded. Plates, pieces of fruit and cutlery went flying and everybody sitting at the table ducked their heads, trying to avoid the flying objects.

Han and Anakin managed to maintain an unflappable stance while still trying to dodge flying spoons, salt shakers and napkin rings.

"Picture them as children like this," Han told Anakin, as if they were the only two adults in the room.

Anakin rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, but inside, he would have given anything to witness such a scene with his beloved Padmé beside him, while their eight year old children 'fought' like this.

"Ouch!" he exclaimed when a spinning fork pricked his right forefinger.

Luke felt the sensation of being pricked on his finger, and he immediately stopped throwing things about and stilled all the flying objects at once, that fell to the floor, clattering.

"Father! Are you all right?" he asked, in immediate regret. It seemed that every time he gave in to his childish side, someone got hurt. But he needed it occasionally. The weight and responsibility of being a Jedi Knight were too heavy sometimes.

"I'm all right, Son, don't worry," Anakin reassured his boy, sucking off the drop of blood on his fingertip.

Leia's eyebrows skyrocketed.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have... I'm too old for this..." Luke babbled.

"Easy, Luke, easy," Anakin placed his hand on Luke's arm, trying to calm him down. "It's okay to play, it's good to let one's hair down from time to time. Being a Jedi is too intense a task not to vent our feelings once in a while in a healthy way. I wish I had been allowed to play a little when I was young." He squeezed his child's arm. "Accidents happen. We may be Jedi Knights, but we can't control everything, nor should we. It is all right." He smiled, inwardly reminding himself to have a long chat with his son about the ideas he had been imbued with about not using the Force in a frivolous way.

"OW!" Leia groaned, drawing everybody's attention.

"What is it?" Luke asked.

"My head," Leia replied, rubbing her temples in circles, "it's throbbing all of a sudden."

"You've expended a lot of effort levitating all these objects and your mind's not used to it. Until we train you properly, you should take it easy," Anakin rose to his feet. "I know a technique to soothe the pain."

"No!" Leia exclaimed immediately. But she composed herself pretty quickly. "I'd rather have Luke doing it, if you don't mind." She made an apologetic face at her father. Truth was, she was wary of trusting her mind and thoughts to Anakin, even though she knew he would never pry into them. She felt guilty for hurting him, but she couldn't help it.

Anakin didn't show any outward signs of being hurt, but everybody knew better.

"By all means," he complied, sitting down again as Luke stood up and approached his sister, squeezing lovingly his father's shoulder in passing.

Luke stood behind his sitting sister and applied the tips of his forefingers to her temples and began a soothing and thoroughly relaxing technique his father had taught him. A technique he had experienced firsthand more than a few times now and he considered a real blessing.

"Did your head throb too when you first tried levitating things?" Leia asked her brother in a soft whisper, so relieved she felt already.

"At first," Luke replied. "But mostly because I tried too hard. I closed my eyes tight and I reached out desperately to whatever object I wanted to summon. Little by little, I discovered I only had to calm down, relax and sort of 'coax' things into moving or floating up to my hand. Detachment was the key. The Force is always there, you only have to learn to recognize it and find the method that works for you."

Leia absorbed every word and nodded to herself.

"And what's easier for you? Levitating things? Touching people's minds?"

"I find everything easy." Luke replied honestly. "In the beginning, I was too impatient and emotional, and I wanted everything _now_. It took me some time to overcome my impatience and control my emotions. And especially, opening my mind to concepts I considered impossible and giving up things I had taken for a fact all my life. Being an adult was a hindrance to my training in most aspects." He let out a soft sigh. "But back to your question, when I learned just how things were done, everything became equally easy for me to do. I don't know if it's just me or if it was the same for the other Jedi back then..." The young man looked at his father questioningly.

"Well, my personal experience when talking to my fellow Jedi was that most of them found some things easier to do than others," Anakin replied. "All of them could levitate things and were more or less proficient in sword fighting. But most of them were better at doing something. Some of them got a headache after trying to levitate too many things at once, even after years of training; others weren't quite capable of reaching the deepest levels of meditation... That led me to believe I was better than most because I could do everything without batting an eyelid." He looked away, shame colouring his features. "One of the reasons for my downfall." He sighed dejectedly. "I became arrogant and conceited. I thought the Masters were jealous or afraid of my potential and they were trying to hold me back, Obi Wan included. _Especially_ Obi-Wan. And Palpatine took advantage of my frustrations, stroking my ego and manipulating me expertly. I was such a naïve, pathetic, spoiled brat! I thought that just because I was more skilled than most, I was wiser than most too, and I knew exactly what had to be done, for the people's own good. I thought they were inferior and blind, that's why they couldn't see what was plain for me to see." He shook his head sadly, looking down. "When there was no one more flawed and imperfect than me."

Incredibly, despite all the wrongdoings he was confessing, Anakin felt everybody's heartfelt compassion and understanding.

"But that's the most important lesson I've learnt." Anakin looked up suddenly, covering them all with his eyes. "No matter how powerful we think we are or however many things we can do, we're just as imperfect and faulty as any non-Force sensitive." He pinned Luke under his stare. "Son, don't feel guilty for being able to do things other beings can't do, for there's nothing wrong with that. Feel free to levitate objects and let your friends see all the things you can do. Make use of your gift, because what we have, is a gift, nothing more, nothing less; and it should be used to make people's lives easier and more bearable. Chewie can reach places we can't, and he doesn't apologize or feel guilty for it, since being so tall is not wrong, it's just what he _is_;and sometimes, he can use his size to his advantage. If you can levitate things up to your hand instead of getting up and picking them up, then do it, because it would be silly not to. Refusing to make full use of our gifts is foolish." His face darkened then. "What _is_ wrong is considering ourselves superior for it, hurting others and making them feel inadequate and inferior. We have telekinetic, empathetic and telepathic abilities, but that is all. Non-Force sensitive beings are scientists, painters, architects, musicians, and they're better than us in those areas. We're all different, with our own strengths and weaknesses. Every single being has got their own blessings. And we're all equals. As long as we never forget that, this galaxy will be a place worth living in."

An awesome silence followed Anakin's speech, as everybody in the room slowly digested his words. The big man, realizing all of a sudden he had everybody's eyes on him, blushed endearingly and looked down again.

"Thank you, Father." Luke was the first to react, his voice sounding infinitely relieved and grateful, as if a heavy load had just been lifted from his shoulders. "You have no idea how much you've eased my mind."

"That's what parents are for," Anakin smiled, trying to bring some levity to the moment.

Luke smiled back, putting his hands down. "Are you feeling better?" he asked his sister.

"Yes, thank you," Leia nodded. "So, does that mean I'll be better at something other than levitating things?"

"Quite the contrary," Anakin replied. "You've had no training at all, so the fact that you can throw things about already means that you have a great Force sensitivity, and you're developing it already. Once you've mastered the techniques, you'll be able to tell whether you find some things more difficult to do than others."

Leia turned inwardly and half-closed her eyes.

"What is it?" Luke asked, curiously.

"I think I'll be much better at empathy," Leia answered, in a faraway voice. "Since I can remember, every time I touched someone, even brushed past them, I could tell whether they were good or bad. Something told me they weren't to be trusted, or they were bluffing or they were sincere and meant what they said. I didn't know why I knew, but I know now." She made a face. "If only I had known sooner!"

"You're aware of it now, so you can learn to develop your gift to the fullest," Anakin encouraged her with a proud smile.

Leia stared at her father for a few moments and then she nodded slowly, as if she had just made up her mind about something.

"Yes, you're right," she conceded.

Right then, the doors opened and R2-D2 and C-3PO rolled/walked in.

"Oh, dear goodness, what happened here?" 3PO exclaimed, at the sight of the floor all scattered with cutlery, pieces of fruit and several other objects.

Everybody looked at each other with tiny little smiles of amusement and by silent mutual agreement, Anakin, Luke and Leia levitated the objects back on to the table.

"Yes, 3PO?" Anakin asked when the chore was completed.

"Her Excellency the President wants to meet Master Luke, Generals Solo and Calrissian and Chewbacca immediately," the droid announced ceremoniously.

The four in question quickly rose to their feet and left the room, followed by the two droids.

Anakin looked at the closed door for a while with a pensive expression.

"Something wrong?" Leia asked.

Anakin returned to reality with a deep intake of breath.

"Mmmm? Oh, no. Nothing really," he smiled at his daughter, realizing this was one of the very rare occasions they were alone together.

Now it was the Princess' turn to study her father with an appraising look.

Anakin noticed his child's scrutiny and looked at her quizzically.

Finally, Leia seemed to make up her mind and changed seats, sitting right in front of her father.

"I was thinking..." she began.

"Yes?" Anakin prompted after a while, when his daughter didn't take the plunge and ask him whatever was preying on her mind. She had come a long way in the past few months, but they still hadn't the kind of relationship Anakin was dying to have. The final barrier inside Leia refused to give in. He was aware of the fact that he might never have with his daughter the type of relationship he had with his son, and he had resigned himself to that possibility, even though it broke his heart. He knew he had no right to ask for more, but it hurt nonetheless.

"I was thinking about the wedding picture of you and Mother," Leia finally blurted out.

"Oh," Anakin nodded, trying to hide the ache in his heart every time he thought about his beloved Padmé or someone mentioned her. "Is there something you want to ask me?" he invited, struggling to overcome the emotion and talk past the lump in his throat.

"Yes," Leia said softly, as if looking for the right words. "I remember that when you showed it to us, I noticed you had a prosthetic right arm. A mechanical one."

"True," Anakin nodded, unaware of where this conversation was leading. "I had lost it a few weeks earlier fighting Count Dooku, a renegade Jedi who turned to the Dark Side," he explained.

Leia nodded again and looked straight into her father's eyes, plucking up her courage.

"Then, how come you bled when that flying fork pricked your finger a while ago? Prostheses don't bleed," she asked at last, her eyes flashing.

Anakin paled at his daughter's question, not because he had something to hide from her, but because he wasn't certain about how would she take the truth. Their relationship was still on shaky ground, and he didn't want to scare her off. Besides, Luke was also deeply involved in that truth.

"W-well, ahhh, you see..." he stammered, not knowing how to begin.

"Luke did something else besides healing you, didn't he?" Leia put her father out of his misery with a kind look. "He regenerated your limbs," she stated.

Anakin met his daughter's gentle eyes, so like his sweet Padmé's, and yielding, he nodded.

"What else did he do?" Leia asked again, softly.

Anakin bit his lower lip, in a most explicit gesture that said it all.

"I don't want to pry if it's too personal," Leia offered her father a way out, seeing this was becoming increasingly difficult for him.

"It's not too personal," Anakin immediately reassured her. "Well, it is, but not so that I can't tell you. Only..." he trailed off.

"This isn't the right time to talk about it and you'd rather have Luke present when we do," Leia finished for him.

Anakin nodded once more.

"All right," Leia accepted it nonchalantly, letting the matter drop.

"Can I ask you something in return?" Anakin asked tentatively, still unsure about how to approach his daughter at times like this.

"Of course." Leia leaned forward, crossed her arms and rested them on the table, looking at her father with a receptive and open expression on her face.

"You're quite wary of being trained in the ways of the Force, aren't you?" Anakin asked kindly.

Leia's eyes opened wide momentarily, but she quickly brought herself back under control.

"Is it that obvious?" she finally said.

Anakin tilted his head to one side with a soft smile.

Leia looked down and sighed dejectedly.

"You're right, I don't want to be trained." She admitted, at last.

"Why?" Anakin asked, with infinite tenderness.

Leia let out all the air in her lungs in a blow and rolled her eyes, most expressively.

"Too many reasons," she answered at last.

"Tell me. Maybe I can help," Anakin offered.

Leia looked away, reluctant to talk about it. But she knew that silence would get her nowhere, so she tried to articulate her motives as best as she could.

"It's part laziness, because I think I'm too old to start with this; part uneasiness, because this is new territory for me and I don't know what am I getting into. Also, I don't know how much my life will change once I start walking this path. I don't know how much this will change _me_, and I fear my friends won't recognize me anymore, or worse, _I_ won't be able to recognize myself. I don't know if I'll be able to dedicate all the time necessary to my training. I have responsibilities within the Government and I can't take that lightly." She took a deep breath and forced herself to voice the biggest reason of all. "But most of all..." she raised her eyes and met her father's, "...I'm terrified of what I'll find on the other side. I'm afraid of opening that door and what lies behind. I wonder if I'll be strong enough to take it, if I'm ready for it." Her eyes regarded her father with sad compassion now. "And above all... if you turned, how can I be safe from suffering the same fate? How do I know...?" She pulled herself together swiftly. "Luke told me once that fear leads to the Dark Side, and right now, that's the primary emotion in my heart at the mere thought of being trained." She shrugged in defeat. "I'm not good material right now, I'm afraid."

"Powerful reasons, all of them," Anakin agreed in a surprisingly light tone of voice, that eased the heavy atmosphere around them. "Reasons I share and understand."

"What do you think I should do?" Leia arched her eyebrows in astonishment when she realized she was actually asking her father for advice.

Anakin looked up, as if asking for help from someone beyond this realm.

"That's a question only you can answer, my daughter," Anakin replied lovingly. "But I'll try to shed some light on your doubts and questions."

"Please do," Leia pleaded. "Perhaps the most honest answer is that I just don't know what to do."

Anakin interlaced his fingers and tried to put some order in his thoughts.

"For what it's worth," he began, "I'm just as scared as you are. I've never trained anyone, and the past twenty odd years are not a good résumé for any Jedi Master. I'm terrified of making mistakes in your training that could cause you to..." He couldn't bring himself to say the words.

"Like you and Obi-Wan," Leia summed up perfectly, in her usual practical way.

Anakin nodded.

"But I have to accept the fact that there are no certainties in this life. I can only do my best and hope it will be enough, even if those odds are not enough for me, as far as my children are concerned. We can only embrace the Light in us and abide by it, trusting it to guide us, trusting we'll be able to tell when we're straying from it."

Leia considered her father's words and nodded to herself, seeing the truth and wisdom in them.

"Just like we do in our ordinary lives. We always try to follow the good path. We try to be fair, not to hurt others intentionally, always think of the common good first... this is no different."

"Exactly," Anakin smiled proudly. "Now, back to your reasons. Laziness. I know what you mean by that. It's always hard for an adult to embark on a journey whose end is a long way ahead, and from where there's no turning back. A journey that's bound to change you on many levels. You're feeling lazy about starting, but that laziness is also inextricably bound up with all your other reasons. Uneasiness about where will this lead and how much it will change you." He paused and smiled at his daughter. "Take your brother's example. Has Luke changed so much that you can't tell today's Luke from the young man you first met? Has he become a 'weirdo' or someone you can't relate to anymore?"

"No," Leia instantly replied. "He has changed, as we all have. Life's a constant change. We all mature and evolve. But Luke's essence will always be there," she said softly.

There was a short silence as Leia started putting the pieces together in her mind.

"Another issue you mentioned. Time," Anakin continued, bringing Leia back with a little start. "There's no schedule to follow, no deadline set for this. This is a training for life, for both Master and padawan. We'll take it slowly, dedicating only the time you can afford. No rush, no pressure, no hurry at all. And if you ever feel your personal life is suffering for it, we'll take it easier."

Leia smiled, relieved.

"Now, the biggies," Anakin said, using slang quite intentionally. "What lies on the other side?" He took a deep breath. "That's something you have to find out for yourself." He looked away and his voice got a distant, mesmerizing quality. "It is a whole new world, a higher consciousness of what we are, what we mean; how everything is bound together, how every single being in the Universe is part of a greater whole, more immense and all-encompassing than any of us could possibly fathom. It's a deeper understanding of our limits, our weaknesses and flaws; but also, how in those flaws lies a strength and a compassion beyond belief. It's the comforting knowledge that Love is the only answer. Love's the intimate connection between all creatures, and nothing, not even death, will ever break it. Love is immortality, it's what will keep us going wherever we go; but at the same time, it will keep us rooted to our loved ones forever. There's no beginning and no end. It's the miracle of Life; neverending, peaceful, eternal. More beautiful and fulfilling than anything we can imagine."

Anakin's face had transfigured as he spoke, as if all the love he had inside had suddenly surfaced. He exuded peace and calm. He had finally found the answer he had been seeking all his life.

Leia stared at her father in awe, as if she was seeing him for the very first time. She couldn't believe this could be the man who had spread mayhem on the galaxy for over two decades.

Her heart constricted with an instinct for protection she had never experienced before. Her father looked so vulnerable right now! But at the same time, he seemed bigger-than-life, certain of his Destiny. She was so moved by the sight, it hurt. She felt a part of her unlocking and opening up like a flower to the warmth of the sun.

"Don't be afraid, Leia." Anakin's eyes turned to her, brighter than she had ever seen them. "There's nothing to be afraid of. Yes, I turned, but don't let that lingering fear hold you back. My sins don't have to soil you. Thank heavens, you and your brother are wiser and smarter than I'll ever be. You have inherited the best of me and your mother. You'll rise above the Darkness that witnessed your birth and you'll make of this galaxy a safe home for all its peace-seeking beings. Nothing will ever be the same, for anyone."

Leia swallowed hard, not quite certain of what was going on there. She felt as if she was contemplating something... transcendental.

Anakin smiled bashfully and looked down, a bit embarrassed at having revealed perhaps too much of himself.

"All right, Father. You and Luke can start training me as soon as I can find the time," came Leia's strangely hoarse voice.

Their eyes met across the table in a new and deeper understanding of each other, and for the first time, Anakin felt there had been a meaningful breakthrough in their relationship.

"I'll only be able to spare short periods of time, and that will make my training even slower. As if I wasn't old enough already!" She sighed out loud. "But I'd rather take it slowly," she confessed.

"So would I," Anakin agreed, "and I'm positive so would Luke. You're going to be our first padawan, and the two of us will be feeling our way through the whole process. You'll have to tell us when you think we're doing something wrong, what things work for you and what don't. You'll be teaching us just as much as we'll be teaching you."

"I prefer it," Leia said, unashamedly. "We'll be teaching each other, then."

"Yes." Anakin nodded once more. "But don't feel pressured because you think you're too old. I was considered too old to start training, and I was nine years old."

"N-nine?" Leia gulped audibly.

"But Luke was twice my age when he got started, and look at what an incredible Jedi he's turned out to be," Anakin reminded his daughter.

She nodded, still uncertain.

"True. But that doesn't mean that just because Luke..."

"You know?" Anakin interrupted his child, knowing already what she was going to say. "In some aspects, I think it's an advantage to start training as an adult. You know what you're getting into, you're aware of the commitment you're making and the sacrifises it will entail. In the Old Days, children started training as soon as their Gift was uncovered. They weren't given any choice in the matter, and by the time they grew up, their whole life had been decided already. To me, a conscious decision is paramount before starting any training." He made a brief pause. "Disadvantages? An adult has got lots of years of experience, they think they know everything that's possible and impossible. They take many things for fact. And the Force is never restrained by our limited mental patterns. That's what Luke found out. Through the Force, the impossible is often possible, and it took him some time to unlearn what he had come to learn, so he could make a fresh start. But once he truly opened his mind, he learned faster and deeper than any child could, because he was using his intellect as much as his feelings and emotions." He smiled warmly. "Everything's got its advantages and disadvantages, but I honestly think it'll be better for you to be an adult in this lifetime project." His smile widened.

And Leia couldn't help but smile back.

"You convinced me. I'm still a bit wary, but I guess it's mostly fear of the unknown."

"It's not an unknown. Believe it or not, you're quite familiar with the Force already. You've been using it subconsciously and tapping from it all your life. You only have to learn to recognize it consciously and get used to its constant presence, around you and inside you. There's nothing to fear, my daughter, believe me."

The Princess took a deep breath and released it loudly with a shaky smile.

Right then, the doors opened and Luke, Han, Chewie, Lando and the two droids came in.

Anakin immediately met his son's gaze and was startled when he saw a flicker of uncertainty and uneasiness in his eyes.

"What is it?" he asked, his heart skipping a beat.

Luke sat down beside his father, instinctively seeking his nearness.

"I just got my first assignment as a Jedi," he announced, with a tremor in his voice.

"Really?" Both Leia and Anakin exclaimed at the same time.

"The President just asked me to go to Ansion and try and mediate in a border dispute that's arisen there. They've explicitly asked for a Jedi to arbitrate between both parties, and give them an objective point of view."

Anakin's eyes almost popped out of their sockets. "Ansion, you said?"

"You've been there before?" Luke asked back.

Anakin nodded. "I was there with Obi-Wan about 25 years ago. Not a very pleasant experience, I may add. They made me so fed up that Obi-Wan could hardly keep me from voicing my opinion about their petty squabbles." He made an ironical face. "Nice to see some things never change."

"Indeed they don't," Luke agreed. "But at least, whatever Obi-Wan suggested back then, managed to work for the past quarter of a century."

"Make no mistake about it, Son," Anakin corrected Luke, "it worked because the Clone Wars broke out soon after. And later, with the coming of the Empire, they had more urgent matters to take care of than their childish disagreements."

"I see," Luke sighed, resigning himself to a quite unsavoury first mission. "Still, even though this seems to be a minor problem, I want to make a good first impression. It's difficult to live up to a legend. If I fall short of their expectations, our reputations as Jedi could end up seriously undermined. I might not be summoned to mediate in any other conflicts." He looked away. "I wish you'd accompany me! If they remembered you, perhaps they'd welcome your input more than mine."

"If they remembered me, the whole assignment would be doomed right from the start, trust me," Anakin smiled at his child, trying to shake him out of his fears with a little bit of humour. "I regret these daily meetings with the Senate are keeping me so busy right now. Maybe next time I'll be able to accompany you."

Luke ground his teeth and looked away, obviously reluctant to tell him something.

"What?" Anakin's heart sank in foreboding.

"When I asked Mon Mothma to let you accompany me on this first mission, she made it pretty clear that all Jedi assignments will fall on my shoulders," Luke explained, visibly upset. "You're the Vice-President of the Republic and your place is on Coruscant, unless it involves an official trip, representing our Government."

Anakin's mouth fell open at that.

"B-but I'm a Jedi!" he stammered. "My children and rebuilding the Order are my first priorities. How am I supposed to...?" He trailed off, so off-balance had he been caught.

Luke's eyes met his father's, reflecting the same helplessness and disappointment Anakin felt.

And it was the underlying apprehension in those eyes that brought back Anakin's resolution.

"We'll talk about this when you return. Somehow, we'll find a way to make it work," he promised his child.

"If I survive this assignment," Luke exclaimed dramatically, trying to cheer himself up. "If I fail, maybe I won't be summoned again for a very long time, and that will solve our problem."

"I doubt it. You will make it, Son; I know." Anakin smiled proudly.

Luke made an ironical, sceptical face.

"Well, I should start packing. We'll be taking off in two hours. Han, Lando and Chewie will be my escorts," he explained, looking at his friends with an expression that left pretty clear his opinion of protocol procedures like that. His gaze returned to his father, dead serious now. "Wish me luck, Father."

"There's no such thing as luck," Anakin replied automatically, grasping his child's unexpectedly sweaty hand in a comforting gesture. "May the Force be with you, my son. May it guide you and inspire you on this your first mission."

Luke let out a quivering smile, and turning on his heels all of a sudden, he quickly left the room.

There was a short silence, full of meaning, as everybody digested what was happening and shared the same feelings about it.

"Take good care of him," Anakin asked Lando, Han and Chewie, unable to help himself.

"Hey!" Han replied immediately. "Need you ask?"

Everybody grinned at the familiar crooked smile, that always seemed to promise a happy resolution to any predicament.

"True," Anakin admitted contritely. "I apologize."

"Well, we should start packing too, if we want to be ready in two hours," Lando suggested, bringing them all out of their highly emotional state.

"Right," Han agreed, walking around the table and saying goodbye to his beloved with a loving kiss. Their eyes met and a silent message flashed between them. Han nodded and strode out of the room, followed by Chewie, Lando and a self-invited R2.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	2. Chapter 2

Luke was closing his small suitcase when he felt the most comforting presence about to knock at his door. He took a deep breath, relaxing instinctively, and waited for the buzz. They were far beyond this, but they always respected the privacy of each other's quarters, even if there were no boundaries between their minds. It was a tacit agreement they rejoiced in, despite its incongruency. Maybe because of it.

Anakin entered his child's room and grinned at Luke's greeting smile.

They stared at each other for a little while, reluctant to be the first to speak. Mind-talk was so easy that words felt too clumsy more often than not.

Finally, breaking eye-contact, Luke picked up his suitcase and put it down by the door. Next, he slipped into a light green jacket. He squared his shoulders and faced Anakin.

"Too informal for a Jedi Knight?" he asked. "Do you think I should wear something more... traditional? Will they take me seriously if they see this runt dressed like a teenager taking his girlfriend to the holo-movies?"

It was obvious that as soon as his father's soothing presence filtered through his defenses, the dams had broken and Luke's fears had poured out of him like a flood.

Swept away by a wave of affection he was incapable of holding back, and also unwilling, Anakin stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his child, hugging him tight.

Luke relaxed immediately, returning the hug tenfold.

"If you think you're a runt, think of Master Yoda," Anakin teased, knowing exactly what to say to ease his son's fears after all these months.

Luke laughed out loud helplessly, relaxing even more.

"Still, Master Yoda's reputation would have made him look like a giant before anyone's eyes," he argued.

Anakin moved back and grasped Luke's shoulders, looking down at him intensely.

"All right, you still have to earn that reputation. But you will, right from this assignment," he assured him emphatically.

Luke looked down, shaking his head with a sigh.

"I don't know if I find your faith in me encouraging or disturbing."

"Think positively," Anakin simply said. "Just as you've been teaching me all this time."

Luke raised his eyes to his father's and contemplated him with sheer adoration. He shook his head again and flopped down on his bed dejectedly.

"You'll have to try harder than that, I'm afraid; because I'm so uncertain of..." he threw up his hands, "...just everything!"

"That's why I'm here," Anakin replied cheerfully, messing his child's hair and sitting on the bed beside him. "First of all, I think you need some background on the people you're going to visit."

"That's what I was about to ask you," Luke admitted.

"From my experience 25 years ago, I came to the conclusion that they were thoroughly irritating, self-centred, petty and childish," Anakin said. "Of course, Obi-Wan and I only met their politicians, so we can't generalize. Peoples tend to be far more advanced and intelligent than their leaders. You'll have to bite your tongue, muster your patience and make full use of your diplomatic abilities."

"Help!" Luke groaned exaggeratedly, wondering how would he accomplish all that. "_What_ diplomatic abilities? And just how do I do all that?"

"Keep calm, and when you think you're about to explode, reach for the Force. It'll give you balance," his father advised.

"I wonder if that will be enough," Luke muttered to himself, looking away.

"There's something else that's troubling you," Anakin stated, after a short pause. "What is it?"

"Everything." Luke was the living image of helplessness. "I'm a soldier, not a diplomat. I don't know the first thing about how to approach these people, how to help them solve their dispute. I don't have the knowledge. I..." he dropped his hands on his lap, in defeat. "...I'm not ready for this."

"Jedi were the keepers of Peace in the Old Republic, not soldiers," Anakin explained. "All your adult life, you've been exactly what Jedi never were, and I understand it's very difficult for you to make the transition from soldier to diplomat. But the only way to learn, is by trial and error. That's life."

"And if I fail? I'll feel responsible if..."

"A wise man is the one who admits there are things beyond his capacities." Anakin didn't allow his son to wallow in his fears and his exaggerated sense of responsibility. "If you feel you can't help these people to reach an agreement, just say so and leave. It won't be your fault. It will be _everybody's_ fault. And believe it or not, you'll learn from the experience. Unfortunately, we learn more from our mistakes than from our achievements." His eyes bored into his son's. "You're excellent material, my son. You only need to hone your abilities. The gift is _in_ you. Time will make it perfect." He made another pause. "And it is time to start."

They looked at each other for a very long time, and Anakin felt Luke's confidence strengthening in a steady boost.

The young man shook his head.

"What would I do without you, Father?" he asked in a voice full of wonder and admiration. "Thank you!"

Anakin smiled, his heart growing too big for his chest. He reached out and held his son's hand.

"Follow your heart, your instincts and your intellect, in this order."

"Why in that order?" Luke asked, curiously.

"Because it was your heart that redeemed a Dark Lord. Even against the dictates of what reason told you." Anakin's voice was soft and sweet. "And I'll trust your heart blindly for as long as I live. It will never lead you wrong."

Luke's eyes misted with tears, and he blinked rapidly to clear them. He looked away, too moved to face his father's naked love and faith.

"Even if you're very good at flattering me..." he began, drawing a little shaky laughter from the two of them, "...I'll never stop needing you." He looked back at Anakin, pulling himself together. "I wish you could accompany me. It's not fair for you to stay here, either." He sighed. "You wouldn't have to do anything, just having you there would help me."

"I know," Anakin cradled his son's cheek in his palm. "This is too unexpected, and you've had no time to prepare. But I will be here, always," he pointed at the left side of Luke's chest. "We'll figure out something when you're back. I'm not happy with this arrangement, either."

The two sensed that their friends were on their way to Luke's room, so the young man stood up and headed for the door. He bent down to pick up his suitcase.

"Oh, by the way..." Anakin began nonchalantly.

"Yes?" Luke asked, stopping in mid-gesture and looking back at his father.

"Anything _but _that jacket, please," Anakin pleaded dramatically.

"Why you...!" Luke exploded, in pretended outrage. He grabbed a small cushion and threw it at his father, who caught it when it impacted on his chest, doubling up with laughter.

Right then, the doorbell buzzed.

"Come in," Luke said.

His door opened and Luke greeted Han, Leia, Lando, Chewie and the two droids.

"Hey, kid, are you ready?" Han asked his best friend.

"Yep!" Luke said cheerfully, grabbing his suitcase.

"Nervous?" Leia asked kindly.

"Oh, well, you know... the usual," Luke replied ironically. "But Father put some of my fears to rest."

"Good," Leia smiled, looking past her brother at Anakin, and nodding to him in gratitude.

Luke took a deep breath and squared his shoulders resolutely.

"Let's go!" he exclaimed, as ready as he could be.

"Luke," Anakin's voice was infinitely gentle, and the young man turned about without thinking.

Anakin walked up to his son and placed his right hand on the top of his head, the ball of it pressed up against his forehead. He closed his eyes and started muttering some indistinct words.

Somehow, Luke realized his father was giving him his blessing and summoning the Force to give his child the focus and guidance he would need. He closed his eyes, too, trying to keep the tears at bay. Untold peace filled his heart to bursting.

When Anakin finished his silent prayer, he put down his hand and looked down at his son, his eyes shining with pride and love.

"Good luck," he simply said when Luke met his eyes, drawing a short laugh from both of them.

* * *

"We should be back in four or five days," Luke told Anakin and Leia by the ramp of the Millennium Falcon. It had undergone a leisurely and thorough repair for the past six months, and it was as good as new. Although it would always look like a hunk of junk to everyone's fond eyes. "Are you sure you don't want Father to start training you in the meantime?" he asked Leia. "It would help to make your days go faster, and by the time I'm back, you'd already have some notions of it."

"No, Luke," Leia shook her head adamantly. "I'd rather wait for you to be here. I want to be monitored by the two of you at all times, especially now that I'm threading into unknown territory. Once I start getting the knack of it and I feel more confident, I'll be able to handle just one of you."

Luke laughed out loud, delighted by his sister's cheekiness.

"I'll teach you some basic relaxation and meditation techniques, so you can set your mind to the right level of concentration when we start training you," Anakin offered.

"All right," Leia agreed, nodding. "We can do that." She looked at her brother and hugged him impulsively. "Good luck, Luke. You're going to make it, I know it," she assured him confidently.

"I hope so," Luke replied, returning the hug, still a bit uncertain. When they moved back, he smiled at her lovingly. Next, he reached out his hand to his father, who took it between both of his and squeezed it.

"May the Force be with you, my son," Anakin said one last time, smiling broadly.

R2 beeped impatiently at them and Luke turned his head.

"I'm coming, Artoo," he told the little droid. "Take care of them for me, 3PO," Luke said to the protocol droid standing slightly behind his father and sister.

"I will, Master," the droid promised eagerly. "May your trip be a successful one."

"Thank you. I'll do my best," Luke winked at his family and with an impish smile, he walked up the ramp, disappearing inside the Falcon.

Anakin and Leia stepped back a few metres when the engines slowly roared to life. Little by little, the ship rose into the air.

Leia was watching the Falcon getting smaller and smaller, when she felt her father's body shuddering from head to foot. She immediately turned to him. Anakin's face was ashen and his breathing was uneven and ragged.

"What is it, Father?" she asked, placing her tiny hand on his arm.

Anakin looked down, and closed his eyes momentarily, trying to grab the elusive feeling that had suddenly come over him.

"I-I... I don't know," he said, tilting his head to one side, as if listening to some inner voice. A new shudder made him look up at the slowly fading ship. "Luke!" he exclaimed, paling even more.

* * *

For the next few days, Anakin hardly knew peace. He tried to pretend around his daughter, but Leia knew better. She tried to coax him into talking to her and sharing his fears, but he refused to tell her.

He was totally absent during his daily meetings with the Senate and when someone's direct question brought him out of his reverie, he answered in monosyllables.

Mon Mothma suspected what was wrong with Anakin, and although she considered he was worrying a bit too much, she kept it to herself. She wasn't a parent, so she didn't really know.

Anakin got in touch with Luke twice a day, and things seemed to be progressing smoothly. It had taken some time for Ansion's government to take such a young man seriously, and they tried Luke's patience to breaking point several times.

Right from the first transmission, Anakin told Luke to proceed carefully and watch out for anything strange or suspicious. And even though he didn't know the reason behind his father's request, Luke promised to follow his instructions to the letter.

* * *

On the morning of the fourth day, Anakin was awakened by an uncontrolled feeling of euphoria filtering through their mind-link, and he knew his child had made it. He sent back all his pride and joy at his son's achievement, and asked him once again to be careful and take care of himself. Luke assured him he would, and broke the communication with an infinitely grateful and heartfelt, _'Thank you for your faith in me, Father'_.

Too keyed up to remain in bed, Anakin got up, washed up, got dressed and left his room, heading for the mess.

He had barely started on his scanty breakfast, when Leia burst into the room, grabbed a chair, sat down on it beside him and faced him with the same authority that had earned her her reputation as a righteous and implacable Senator.

"All right, Father. I want you to tell me what the devil's going on with you, and why are you refusing to trust in me."

Anakin blinked stupidly, staring at his daughter, unable to believe how such a tiny person could be towering above him.

It took him some time to react, but when he did, he realized he couldn't keep this from her any longer. They were a family, and family stuck together. In good times and in bad.

He put down his fork and turned to her.

"You're right, Leia. Please, forgive me for trying to keep this from you. You have a right to know."

"Well?" She asked, her eyes flashing. "Something's wrong with you since the Falcon took off. It doesn't take a genius to figure out you're worried about Luke, his assignment or both. So, spill it out."

Anakin looked down and shook his head. What a fool he had been! He had underestimated his child's capacities, forgetting she had been one of the brightest tactical leaders of the Alliance, tough and resilient when others had fallen apart. He had sold his daughter short. He would never make the same mistake again. He looked up at Leia with bright, intense eyes.

"When the Falcon was leaving, I had a feeling."

"What kind of feeling?" Leia asked.

"Foreboding. I felt that something would happen on Ansion."

Leia stiffened and her look hardened.

"Something dangerous?"

"Quite possibly," Anakin nodded, looking down.

"And you let Luke, Han and the others go, knowing they...?" Leia exploded; but she immediately realized the blunder she was about to make and brought herself back under control. "No, I can see why you did it. Things have to be done, even if they're dangerous. I had to send Luke into battle many times, knowing he could be killed. The fact that this is a time of peace doesn't make any difference. He's a Jedi. It's his job, and he can't shirk his responsibilities just because there could be some kind of peril involved."

Anakin had recoiled from his daughter's rightful wrath at first, shrinking from her anger. But when she brought herself back under control, getting it on her own, he risked a glance at her.

She was looking at him contritely, as if she had just realized the power she had over him. The power of breaking his heart and hurting him beyond reason.

Leia reached out and placed her hand on her father's shoulder, squeezing it affectionately. He looked like a lost waif sometimes, so needy and desperate for love and approval that her heart ached for him. The wave of overwhelming love that surged up from deep inside her was almost scary, and it was becoming more and more difficult to hold back.

Sometimes, she wondered why she felt the need to hold back her feelings for this man in the first place. And then, she remembered. It broke her heart to see so much pain reflected in Anakin's face. And every time she touched him, as just now, and she felt everything he was feeling, the wall she had placed between them cracked a little bit more. It was a matter of time before it crumbled, she knew that. Both of them knew. But until the right time came for her to feel safe allowing that to happen, she had to learn to control her temper. There was no reason to hurt her father any more than she already did.

"I'm sorry, Father," she apologized, her voice soothing and gentle. "Next time I'm about to dump all this crap on you, I'll count to ten first."

"No, you're partially right," Anakin shook his head in a gesture of helplessness. "I didn't know what to do." He looked away. "I feel as if they were pulling at me from a thousand different directions and I couldn't decide what to do. And I know that doing nothing is just as bad as making a decision. _Any_ decision."

Leia squeezed her father's shoulder one more time and rolled her eyes, knowing the feeling only too well.

"I know how it is, believe me," she sighed dejectedly.

"My first reaction was preventing him from going. But then, I realized it's useless to try and interfere with Destiny. Whatever is destined to be, it will be; it doesn't matter how much we try to stop it." Anakin rubbed his eyes with his fingertips, tiredly. "Then, I thought that maybe I was overreacting. I felt that something would happen on Ansion, something potentially dangerous. But somehow, I _knew_ that if Luke's life had been in mortal danger, I'd have felt it. Luke is a Jedi Master now, and he's got to earn everybody's respect, independently of me. He's got to be able to stand on his own."

"And you also want to protect him from your former identity. You don't want his reputation to be soiled by associating with you in these assignments." Leia voiced what Anakin didn't dare to say out loud.

Anakin's eyes reddened and he nodded, looking away.

"But Father, you're a Jedi Master too. Sooner or later..."

"I'm also the Vice-President of the Republic," Anakin reminded himself as much as his daughter. "I can't cross my President's wishes for personal reasons. I can't question her decisions just because they're in conflict with my personal wishes. I have a responsibility to billions of beings, too. I let them down once, and I won't do it again."

Leia pursed her lips, understanding her father's feelings and motives, but she also realized something else. Something that had to be buried deep inside her father's psyche and he either didn't dare to acknowledge out loud, or wasn't consciously aware of. The fear of turning to the Dark Side again.

The fierceness of her feelings about that took her by surprise. For she knew, without the shadow of a doubt, that her father would never turn again. She didn't know how she knew, she just did; with everything she was and everything she felt. And she knew Luke also knew. But Anakin had been thoroughly traumatized by his past, and he couldn't see himself as objectively as his children and friends could.

Still, it was only a matter of time before her father saw it.

"I warned Luke as soon as he landed on Ansion's capital." Anakin's words shook Leia out of her musings. "I didn't tell him everything because I didn't want to worry him and distract him from his mission needlessly, in case it didn't turn out to be that serious. But that faceless danger, along with... all those other considerations, is unsettling me greatly. If I can't prevent it from happening, then I should be there with him!" he exclaimed in anguish.

"What I don't understand..." Leia interrupted the downward spiral of her father's thoughts quite intentionally, "...is why can't Luke feel the danger. Logically, the person who's going to face the situation should be the one to feel it."

"Those are the ways of the Force," Anakin explained, cryptically. Apparently, there were no answers to those grey areas.

"Don't worry then, Father." Leia patted Anakin's forearm reassuringly, "I have the feeling that you wouldn't have been warned beforehand if you couldn't prevent somehow what's bound to happen." She grabbed a little olive from her father's plate and put it in her mouth. "Hurry up with your breakfast." She stood up, pointing at his plate. "The meeting with the Senate was moved forward to 11:00 hours, remember?"

Anakin's jaw hit the floor, amazed at his daughter's self-confidence. Her total trust in him and his abilities to keep Luke safe, even from Coruscant, left him speechless.

"Oh... oh, right!" He stammered, unable to react in a more intelligent manner.

* * *

As usual, the daily meeting with the Senate was as boring and unnecessary as it had been for the last week. Anakin honestly saw no reason for his presence. He was only there to 'swell the numbers.' He couldn't shake off the feeling that he shouldn't be there, that this wasn't the place he was meant to be. The past few meetings had been a mere formality, and he knew that if Mon Mothma had allowed him to accompany his son, no one would have noticed and the galaxy would still keep on turning.

Sitting beside him, Leia could feel the uneasiness coming out of her father in waves. He was squirming in his seat like a Rivan eel.

As soon as the meeting was adjourned, Anakin practically bolted from the Hall, whispering to his daughter he needed to meditate and please do not disturb him.

* * *

Anakin sat cross-legged on his bed, his favoured place for meditation, facing the early evening sunshine entering through the large window. He took a few deep breaths, closed his eyes and tried to slip into the first level of meditation. It happened so easily this time that he allowed himself a brief moment of surprise. For the past five days, he had been so restless he had been unable to go beyond this state, even after hours of trying it repeatedly.

His mind wandered aimlessly, and Anakin let it roam free, wherever it wished to go. He felt a sort of acceleration and then an abrupt halt. He opened his eyes and looked around him.

He wasn't in his room anymore, but in a lush forest. In a daze, he started walking in no particular direction as something vague nagged at his mind. He knew this place. He had been here before. But he couldn't quite pinpoint...

All of a sudden, he heard something on his left. He turned his head and saw Han Solo and Chewbacca walking beside him.

What the...?

"_Hey, kid, I hope today's success won't go to your head."_

And then, he found himself answering!

"I'm not sure, Han. After all, you bet with Lando that they would 'trounce me.'"

"You know it was nothing personal, Luke. But a bet is a bet."

And he answered again.

"In that case, you'll be happy to make Lando a rich man now, my friend," he smiled mischievously.

A familiar laughter let him know Lando was walking on his right.

Awestruck, Anakin watched how they were arriving at a clearing where the Millennium Falcon waited for them, one hundred metres away.

It was then he recognized the landing platform. Ansion! He was on Ansion!

Suddenly, as if through a stroboscope, his sight moved at lightning speed until it settled on a dug up spot on the ground, directly in their way. A tiny metallic wedge sticking out of the soil drew his attention.

And then, in a horrifying flash of insight, Anakin knew. A land-mine! His son was about to step on a land-mine!

A blood-curdling scream tore his throat, leaving it raw.

"_Luke, it's a land-mine! No, my son! NOOOOOOOOO!"_

He heard a robotic beeping and an explosion, and everything went dark.

Anakin was thrown out of his vision and back to the reality of his quarters. He was sweating heavily, panting, trembling from head to foot. His stomach churned with nausea and he covered his mouth with his hands, as the bitter flavour of bile filled his mouth. He dashed for the bathroom and vomited his guts out there, before passing out.

* * *

"_He's coming round,"_ said a faraway voice. _"Talk to him, let him hear the sound of your voice."_

"Father, Father, can you hear me? It's Leia, Father. Wake up, please. Open your eyes and look at me."

The urgency in the voice was so compelling that Anakin obeyed it without question. He followed the caring concern in the soft accent and let it rouse him to consciousness.

His eyelids seemed to weigh a ton, but he forced himself to open them. A blurry spot greeted him and he winced. He tried harder, focusing on what appeared to be a rounded shape right in front of his line of vision. Little by little, the shape started rearranging until it became his daughter's lovely face, who was looking down at him, her brown eyes filled with worry.

"Hello, Father," she smiled shakily. "Welcome back."

Wearily, Anakin looked around. He was lying down on a bed in the Temple's infirmary. 2-1B was on his right and Leia stood beside the bed on his left, the warm touch of her hand on his wrist a soothing balm for his soul.

"Leia, what am I do-" Right then, his vision came back to him in a terrifying flash. "Luke! Oh, my goodness, Luke! NO! No, my son!" he cried out. His spirit was fleeing his body in sheer horror as his worst nightmare came alive for the second time.

"Shhh, he's all right. Luke's all right, Father." Leia's hold on his wrist tightened reassuringly.

"W-what do you mean? How do you know?" Anakin asked, tears streaming heedlessly down his cheeks.

"Because I talked to him 30 minutes ago," Leia smiled tenderly. "Everybody's all right and they're already on their way to Coruscant."

Anakin blinked in confusion. His heart was hammering so hard in his chest that his ribs almost hurt from the pounding. The room was spinning.

"30 minutes? H-how long I was out?" he demanded to know.

"Two hours," Leia replied.

"Two HOURS?" Anakin exclaimed.

Leia nodded gravely.

"We couldn't bring you back. Your heart stopped beating several times, and every time 2-1B resuscitated you it stopped beating again. It was as if you were refusing to return." She bit her lips in anguish, and her cheeks lost the almost healthy colour they'd had a moment before. Her grip on his wrist became stronger. "I..." she looked down self-consciously, "I had to enter your mind and tell you that Luke was alive. Only then you returned to us."

It took a while for Anakin to comprehend what was happening and what Leia was trying to tell him.

"Is it true?" he practically moaned. "Is Luke all right?"

Leia's eyes filled with tears and with something else Anakin was unable to fathom at the moment. She reached out and wiped away the wetness on his face.

"Check it out for yourself," she said in a trembling voice, touching his forehead with the tip of her forefinger.

Anakin met his daughter's smiling eyes, and his heart jumped with both joy and dread. He didn't dare to believe...

"I'd never lie to you." Leia got serious, reading her father's fear. "Besides, I'd be incapable of holding on so nicely if something had happened to my brother." There was a slight rebuke in her words.

"I'm sorry. Please, forgive me," Anakin apologized, feeling infinitely tired all of a sudden. His mind was exhausted, and it took him some time to concentrate enough to achieve the barest hint of serenity. He closed his eyes and tentatively reached out with his mind. He was terrified of receiving no answer. He didn't want to live if the purest, most beautiful part of him had gone for good.

'_Luke?'_ he timidly sent.

As if it had been waiting for him to open that tiny window to the outside world, an infinite wave of love and affection swept him away.

'_Father! Oh, Father!'_ came the sweetest mind-voice.

Tears rolled down Anakin's face again. He almost blacked out for the second time that afternoon, only this time with indescribable joy.

'_Luke! My precious child! Are you all right, Son?'_ he sobbed in absolute relief. His life had been handed back to him.

'_Yes, Father, I'm fine. We all are, thanks to you,'_ Luke replied, sending a grateful mental caress.

'_Me?'_ Anakin asked, uncomprehending.

'_Yes. I'll explain everything to you when we return home. We'll be there in six hours. Rest now, Father. You'll see me beside you when you wake up.'_

'_But...!' _Anakin was reluctant to break the contact. It had been so unthinkably horrendous...

'_Sleep,'_ Luke insisted, almost irresistibly. _'I'm in one piece, I promise.'_

'_All right,'_ Anakin relented, his heart aching inside. _'I'll see you soon, my son.'_

'_Soon, Father,'_ came Luke's loving promise before the contact was softly broken.

His mental equilibrium just barely regained, Anakin turned to his daughter.

"What happened?" he asked matter-of-factly.

Seeing that her father wouldn't take a 'later' for an answer, Leia cast a swift look at the medical droid.

"His condition is stable now," 2-1B answered her unvoiced question.

"There was an explosion on the landing platform," she began, hesitatingly. "Someone buried..."

"A land-mine, I know," Anakin took a deep breath. "Who? Why?" He inquired flatly, exuding authority.

"We don't know, yet." Leia's expression was rightfully troubled now. "Mon Mothma has already been informed and an emergency cabinet is meeting right now. Of course, I have been excused from attending," she smiled softly and reached out, holding her father's hand. "I was so worried about you. I thought..." her voice cracked and she looked away.

Anakin's hand settled above her own and squeezed it lovingly.

"I know, my daughter. I know." He respected Leia's need for some distance, although her genuine caring and affection for him were unmistakable. Her physical and emotional emanations were incredibly powerful.

"I heard your screaming from the corridor and I found you unconscious in the bathroom," she confessed in a weak and vulnerable voice, looking back at him, her eyes fearful and frightened.

"It mustn't have been a pretty sight," Anakin remembered his condition before passing out only too well. "I'm sorry you found me in that state, Leia."

The Princess shook her head, dismissing her father's words as inconsequential. The depth of her feelings for that man had taken her by surprise, and she wasn't prepared for it. It was... unsettling. To think she could have lost him! And Luke, and Han and all her friends! Her legs began trembling and she had to sit down on a stool beside her father's bedside.

"Leia!" Anakin felt his daughter's lifeforce wavering and he reached out to her.

"I'm... I'm all right now, Father," she assured him, recovering quickly.

"You should lie down as well, your highness," 2-1B intruded on the father-daughter conversation.

"No, I'm fine now," Leia insisted, stubbornly. "How is he, 2-1B?" she asked the droid.

"Stable and improving," he replied. "But I will inject him with a mild sedative. He needs to rest."

"No!" Anakin exclaimed. "I want to be awake when Luke arrives. I need to..."

"Father, it'll be another six hours until Luke gets here. What's the point of you lying here all that time, wide awake and fretting with impatience?" Leia tried to reason with her irrational parent. "Let us take care of you. You'll be awake before Luke arrives."

Anakin acknowledged the wisdom in his daughter's words. He yielded, albeit grudgingly.

"A _very_ mild one," he demanded.

"You got it," Leia smiled, not bothering to hide her relief. "Proceed, 2-1B."

"Yes, your highness."

A few seconds later, his child's face started becoming blurry and Anakin clasped her tiny hand tighter, in sudden fear. He felt her returning the pressure tenderly.

"Can you-can you please... raise my bed... a little?" he requested; and then, he let go.

* * *

It was a very pleasant dream. He could hear voices in the background. He strained to listen to what they were saying and he realized they were talking about him. He could feel their concern, their sincere and heart-warming caring, and a sweet joy suffused his being.

"He's waking up," said a kind female voice.

"I know," replied another voice, very close to him.

The unashamed love in the second voice tore at Anakin's heartstrings and in a sudden rush of brutal, desperate need, he opened his eyes.

The bright light in the room made him close them again with a painful wince, and he immediately felt a soft but intense pressure on his hand.

"Shhhh, easy, Father. I'm here, with you."

"Luke," Anakin said the word like a prayer, like a gift from the heavens. He struggled to open his eyes again.

"Yes." The naked emotion in his child's voice was overwhelming. The pressure on his hand intensified, and another hand settled softly on the right side of his face, the thumb caressing his cheek with heartbreaking gentleness.

Anakin's eyes filled with tears as his son's mind softly touched his own. He finally opened them a tiny slit and saw Luke's smiling face, leaning over him. There was a gash on his forehead, a swollen bruise on his left cheekbone and several cuts and abrasions scattered all over his face. But none of them seemed to bother him, as he grinned down at him, love written all over his boyish face.

Anakin reached out and hugged the young man to him for all he was worth. This was all he needed, even more than all the smiles and reassuring words in the world. The warm and sweet presence of his son's breathing and living body in his arms.

"Oh, Luke! Luke! Bless the Force you're safe, my child! If something happened to you...!" he buried his face in his son's shoulder.

Luke returned the embrace, holding on to his father's top just as desperately. Even though he had been unconscious at the time, somehow he felt his father had '_died_,' and when he had awakened aboard the Falcon, he'd cried out for him, his mind trying to reach him frantically. Only when he had touched his father's lifeforce again, had he calmed down enough to let his friends tend his wounds. It had been the second time he felt his father's living essence slipping through his fingers and for a moment, he thought he'd die with pain. It had been devastating losing him on the second Death Star, but losing him now would simply kill him. He vowed to himself he would never go through such a thing again. _Never again!_

They clung to one another for a very long time, literally feeding from the contact, unwilling to let go. Until, little by little, they lessened their hold and moved back, their eyes roaming each other. They smiled bashfully and reached out at the same time. Luke wiped away the tears on his father's cheeks, and Anakin fingered the cuts and bruises on his son's face with the utmost tenderness.

Suddenly, they seemed to notice they weren't alone and they turned to their friends.

"Sorry!" they exclaimed in unison.

"See what I mean?" Han told his friends. "Twins."

Anakin studied the others. Han's face was also covered with cuts and bruises. He had a deep cut across his upper lip, a bruise on the right side of his forehead and several abrasions. Lando's jaw was raw and swollen and his face scattered with cuts, and Chewie had no visible wounds, but his hair was singed in several places.

"What happened?" he asked, dead serious.

"There was a land-mine buried in he ground on the landing platform," Luke explained. "I was about to step on it, but I heard you in my mind yelling at me to stop, so I did." He took a deep, shaky breath and continued. "R2 detected it with his radar also, because he started beeping like crazy. Apparently, this land-mine also had a short-range sensor and I must have stopped within its range, so it exploded anyway."

Anakin shuddered inside at the mental image Luke sent him. He hissed and pressed his palm hard against his son's cheek. Luke covered his father's hand with his own, reassuring him.

The infirmary's doors opened and C-3PO and a visibly damaged R2 entered the room.

"Excuse me," the golden droid announced, "the President sent me to ask after you. The emergency cabinet just finished its session, and Her Excellency wants to know if all of you will be ready to meet up with her tomorrow at 10:00 hours."

Everybody looked at each other and they nodded, in silent mutual agreement.

"We will be ready, 3PO," Leia answered for them.

"Also, Her Excellency asked me to tell you that she'll come down to visit you all shortly," 3PO said, placing his hand on R2's dome protectively.

Anakin looked down at himself and made a grimace.

"I'd like to wash up and change first. Is it all right for me to return to my quarters?" he asked 2-1B.

"I would advise you to be careful for a couple days, sir," the medical droid replied. "Your system suffered a severe trauma and it will take a few days for it to recover. But if you want to rest in your quarters instead of the infirmary, I have no objection."

"Deal!" Anakin practically jumped out of the small bunk. A fleeting dizziness made him freeze when he rose to his feet, but it passed quickly. He felt Luke's arm wrapping itself around his waist, steadying him, and he squeezed his child's shoulder reassuringly.

A long session of meditation was in order now. There were a lot of things to sort out inside his head. Issues he had been avoiding and putting off for months that were screaming at him to make a decision once and for all. His indecisiveness had been about to cost his son's life today, and he would never forgive himself. Tonight, those issues would have an answer, for better or worse.

"Well!" Leia began, making an effort to sound cheerful, snuggling up to her beloved's body, desperately needing Han's touch. "I suggest we all wash up, change our clothes and meet at Father's quarters, to wait for Mon Mothma."

"Good idea, honey," Han agreed, holding her close and nuzzling her beautiful hair in a heartbreaking needful gesture. It had been a terrible day. The first time since the birth of the New Republic they had faced their own mortality again, after years of war against the Empire. They had gotten used to the safety Peace seemed to promise, and today, they had been reminded brutally of the work there still was to be done. But right now, he just needed to bask in his beloved and his friends' soothing presence, and celebrate life.

Everybody headed for the door, but Anakin's soft voice stopped them in their tracks.

"Han, Lando, Chewie," he called.

The three in question turned about. Curiously, all of them had remorseful expressions on their faces.

Anakin approached them with a kind smile on his face.

"I want to thank you for protecting and taking care of Luke."

The three looked at each other, as if they couldn't believe what they were hearing.

"W-what are you talking about?" Han stuttered, in astonishment. "We failed miserably in..."

"You _protected_ my son." Anakin insisted. "You couldn't prevent what was destined to happen, but you were there beside him when it happened; you got hurt trying to protect him, and I'll be forever in your debt. I thank the Force you're all safe." He reached out and placed his hand on Han's shoulder, squeezing it gratefully. "I'm so happy Luke's got such good friends. I am so blessed to have you all in my life!" he said from the bottom of his heart. He reached out his other hand and squeezed Lando's shoulder. When the man moaned and flinched, Anakin realized he was hurt there too, so he moved his hand away with an apologetic face. Lando smiled and nodded, indicating it was all right. Then, Anakin scratched the Wookie's fur, already expecting what happened next. Chewie ruffled his hair thoroughly with his big paw.

As one, the deeply moved group left the infirmary, with a lot of bruises to heal and an extremely disturbing unknown to face.

* * *

It was 08:30 hours and Anakin was watching over his son's sleep. He had been unable to separate from his child's side all evening, and when it was time to retire for the night, he had procrastinated as much as possible in Luke's quarters.

Understanding the reason behind his father's reluctance to leave, and inwardly craving for his nearness, the young man took out a blanket from his closet and the second pillow from his bed, and put them on the couch. Then, he turned about, a shy smile on his face, his invitation more than obvious.

As he rejoiced in his son's peaceful sleep, the sight of his noble, boyish features scattered with cuts and bruises, made Anakin feel such a deep pain that he had to sit down on his child's bed. Luckily, Luke didn't awake.

It wasn't the first time he felt like this. As a matter of fact, he was thoroughly familiar with the feeling since he had become a father. It was a constant pain in his chest that could be called by many names: worry, uncertainty, need to protect, downright fear... but all those separate feelings coalesced in one single word. _Love._ The most immense and sublime feeling in the Universe.

It was a pain he knew would accompany him for as long as he lived; but he wouldn't change it for anything. It was the feeling that defined him as a sentient being. He was a father. A Father. He was meant to protect his children, to provide for them, to love them beyond reason; to _die_ for them happily and with a smile of contentment on his face.

As a father, he lived in a perpetual state of alarm and trepidation. A parent never knew peace, for the world out there was never safe enough and good enough for their children. And unfortunately for them, the kind of life they led, didn't make it any easier.

Major conflict there, no question about it. He wanted his children safe, but he couldn't interfere with their destinies. They had chosen that path, it was what they were meant to be. He could only pray and shield them from any harm as best he could, knowing it would not always be possible.

He bit his lower lip at the notion of his children getting seriously hurt, or worse. He shook his head sharply, casting away the unthinkable thought. All parents lived with those fears. He was no different.

He could learn to live with those fears, but that didn't mean he had to accept it. He _never_ would. And the sight of it before him now was too painful to bear.

Anakin reached out a suddenly trembling hand and cradled Luke's cheek in it. He was instantly drawn to the swollen bruise on the left cheekbone, and he touched it with his fingertips. It was hot and throbbed a little. He winced.

Remembering how his child had healed his body on the Death Star, Anakin closed his eyes and concentrated hard. His other hand blindly parted Luke's fringe, and he rested his palm on the warm forehead, covering the deep gash there. He summoned the Force, trying to detach himself as much as possible, trying to coax the torn, raw tissues into regenerating.

A couple minutes passed and nothing happened. Frustrated, Anakin tried it with every single technique he remembered, but none of them worked.

"_Damn!"_ he cussed in sheer helplessness, taking a break to catch his breath.

"Annoying, isn't it?" came Luke's soft voice, making him jump and open his eyes like saucers.

"I tried it aboard the Falcon, but it didn't work," Luke went on, grabbing his father's hand from his forehead and squeezing it fondly. "Apparently, my healing gift doesn't work on me."

Anakin watched his son silently, inwardly cursing his inability to heal even those minor wounds.

"I considered healing Han, Lando and Chewie, but... I chickened out. I guess..." Luke trailed off.

"You were afraid that your healing gift would put them off," Anakin finished for him.

The young man looked away and nodded.

Anakin sighed.

"I see we still have some things to set straight inside this nut of yours, my boy," Anakin chided affectionately, knocking softly on his son's head.

The unexpected slang took Luke by surprise and he laughed out loud, despite himself.

"Your friends' love for you is not subject to your abilities, never mind how extraordinary they are. They love you for who you are, not because of the things you can do. I think you're selling them short, even after all the years you've known them. Deep down, you know it."

Luke nodded, acknowledging the truth in his father's words.

"We talked about this the other day after the fork incident. But I feel this issue runs deeper." Trusting his instinct, Anakin edged closer to his son. "Why are you so reluctant to use the Force around your friends, even your sister? Why do you feel the need to control your feelings and emotions so much?" Tentatively, he dared to voice the question. "Is it because of what happened between us on the Death Star? Are you afraid of falling, should you allow yourself the tiniest bit of anger or any negative feeling?"

Luke's eyes flashed with something akin to fear, shame and something else Anakin was unable to identify. He sat up on his bed, crossed his legs and reached out one hand. Anakin immediately took it between both of his, answering the silent plea.

"Partly," Luke admitted, staring at their joined hands as if they held the mysteries of the universe. "But also because of... other issues."

"What issues?" Anakin pressed gently.

Luke bit his lower lip and remained silent. Finally, he took the plunge, not meeting his father's eyes.

"Since I can remember, I was the kind of kid who was sort of the son of Chaos, if you know what I mean. When I got excited about something, I was dangerous. I was so desperate to please that I always made a mess. And the harder I tried the worse things turned out. On one occasion, I burned out the electric installation of the farm, while trying to fix the water piping. It took three days for Uncle Owen to repair the damage I caused. I still don't know how I did it."

Anakin smiled fondly, knowing only too well how his child felt. He had been a bit clumsy as a teenager as well, trying to please Obi-Wan, Master Yoda and all the other Masters. The difference between him and his son was that Obi-Wan and the others had exhibited an amazing amount of patience and understanding, every time his attempts to please resulted in chaos and mayhem. Thankfully, as he grew up and gained self-confidence, he also grew out of that phase.

But the pain in his son's eyes told a whole different story. He squeezed the smaller hand in his, offering all his support.

A self-deprecating expression crossed Luke's features momentarily, before he continued.

"I was a bit of a whine, too. But looking back now, I think it was because I wanted to draw people's attention. I wanted them to look at me, to pay attention to me and... well, pamper me."

Anakin smiled, barely holding back the impulse to do just that.

"I wanted them to be proud of me. I wanted them to see how hard I tried, to encourage me and tell me they were there for me if I failed. That I wasn't alone." He closed his eyes, a searing expression of pain coming over him. "And I always felt alone... deep inside.. so utterly alone..." he confessed, his eyes filling with tears at the remembrance.

"Owen wasn't too kind to you, was he?" Anakin stated, a wave of brutal resentment rising in his chest.

Luke tilted his head to one side and pursed his lips, in a bitter gesture of melancholy.

"He wasn't my father," he summed it up perfectly. "His attitude to me puzzled me more often than not. I knew he cared about me. I could _feel_ it. But he held back a lot in front of me." He frowned, as if trying to understand even now. "Sometimes, I could see... _apprehension_ in his eyes when he looked at me. I didn't understand why. There was no one around as simple as me, I always seemed to fall short of his expectations, and still, he _feared_ me?" He shook his head. "He didn't behave like that towards Aunt Beru, his friends or anybody else. Just me." He took a deep breath. "Now I know why, but back then, it hurt me. And the harder I tried to please him, the harder I failed. Until I quit trying, and resigned myself to the fact that I'd never be whatever he wanted me to be."

Anakin closed his eyes and cursed himself once more, for being the cause of his child's not-too-happy childhood.

"Last week, when I was meditating," Luke went on suddenly, "I remembered something that happened when I was almost five years old and I had forgotten completely." He swallowed hard, his voice unusually low. "It was Uncle Owen's birthday and a few days earlier, quite by chance, I had found out I could levitate things. So I practised alone in my room and prepared a surprise for him. When we were in the kitchen, I told them to pay attention because I was going to do a trick. I levitated the cutlery and started cutting up the cake, serving it on plates, filling cups and such. Out of the blue, Uncle Owen began crying out to me to stop it. He scared me so much that I dropped all the objects at once, and the knife slashed through Aunt Beru's arm." He made a pause, hissing softly. "The moment he saw the blood on Aunt Beru's arm, he lost it. He grabbed my arm and slapped my face, telling me to never _ever_ do that again, because it was evil, and I was evil for doing it. That I was a _'little monster'_ because I had hurt aunt Beru with _'those powers from hell.'_" Luke began trembling helplessly, deep in the grip of that terrible memory.

Anakin inched closer and wrapped an arm around his child's hunched shoulders.

"I was so frightened. I had never seen him like that. And thank heavens, that was the first and last time he hit me. Aunt Beru cried out to him to stop, that I was only a little boy. Then, Uncle Owen realized what he was doing and released me. I ran to my room and hid under my bed." He closed his eyes and the tears fell at last. "I wanted to die. I thought I shouldn't have been born, that no one really wanted me. That I was bad."

Tears streamed down Anakin's cheeks, and he leaned his forehead on his son's, sharing his pain, wishing to take it upon his soul.

Soaking up his father's all-encompassing love, starved for it, Luke found the strength to finish his story.

"I don't know how long I was hiding there." He bit his lower lip nervously. "But at some point, my door opened and Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru came in. They saw me under my bed and talked me into coming out. Uncle Owen looked awful. He begged me to get out of there. He told me he got scared when he saw me doing that, and that it had been his fault that Aunt Beru got hurt, because he startled me into dropping the cutlery. I felt he was truly sorry and he needed my forgiveness, so I came out and they hugged me. Uncle Owen apologized over and over, swearing he would never hit me again, and asked me to please never levitate things again, because people could think I was weird and they could give me the cold shoulder for it." He made a sarcastic face. "Many kids _already_ called me weird, so I figured Uncle Owen was right. I never did it again and the whole thing was forgotten." He let out a trembling sigh. "I guess that besides being too small to remember, I got so traumatized by that event that I blocked it completely from my memory."

"Until that flying fork pricked my finger," Anakin said, understanding now only too well.

Luke nodded and sniffled, wiping away the tears on his face with firm determination.

"Every time I let go, someone gets hurt," he affirmed.

"That's not true and you know it," Anakin cut him short. "Accidents happen; but your feelings, your awesome capacity to love and forgive, are what makes you the noblest, most generous and honourable being I've ever known. Your feelings saved me. I owe you my life, I owe you my very soul," he kissed Luke's temple, so moved he could hardly speak. "I can't change what happened back then, and I'll curse myself forever for not being there for you when you needed me the most." He swallowed the lump in his throat with great difficulty. "You have to get over those past hang-ups." He squeezed his child's shoulder. "If you trust your instincts, your inner voice, you'll never be wrong. Even if you fail."

Luke didn't move, and remained silent.

Anakin reached out and turned Luke's face, forcing him to meet his eyes.

"Don't hold back, my son, because it's the restraint of emotions that is wrong. They blow up sooner or later, and usually in the most unhealthy way. I'm the living example of that." He sighed out loud. "It's good, and desirable, to control our ugly feelings, our 'dark side,' and behave like civilized beings; but such a brutal restraint is unnatural." His gaze intensified. "You're still very young, you're still leaving your childhood and teenage flaws behind. There's no trace in you of the whiny person you claimed to be. You're strong and resilient."

Luke bit his lips and looked up at his father, his eyes wide open, clinging to every word he said.

"All of us need to vent our feelings once in a while, and although it's not a pretty sight, it is good for our emotional health. It's normal to be angered by the injustices of life, it's human to hate evil in any form. Anger and hatred lead to the Dark Side only if we allow them to corrupt our morals and rule our lives. Love and hate create a balance inside us, but _we_ make the decision to let either Light or Darkness guide us."

Luke looked aside, opening his eyes to a whole new way of facing his greatest fears he hadn't considered.

"You're afraid of getting angry and growing to hate something or someone because you think that it will automatically lead you to the Dark Side, as it almost did on the Death Star." Anakin could see right through his son's soul, and smiled at him. "But I know better. You could never turn, Luke. Then or now. And you know why?"

Luke shook his head, holding his breath.

"Because you've never hated anyone. You hate evil in people, you hate their actions, their opinions, their morals. But not _them_ as sentient beings. You respect life too much to take it unremorsefully. It doesn't matter how angry you can get or how much hatred you come to feel. You will never turn because love is what you value the most, not material things. You don't crave for power, you harbour no feelings of dominating others and bending them to your views, you don't presume to know what's best for them. You only aspire to love and be loved, to live and let live." Anakin shrugged apologetically. "I'm sorry, but you're just not good Dark Side stuff, Son. You never were and never will be."

They laughed softly at that.

"And you did crave those things?" Luke asked, getting serious. He was honestly curious to know what was the big difference between them that had meant his father's downfall in the end.

Anakin looked up regretfully, trying to find a way to explain himself.

"Not at first. But I was very disappointed with the Old Republic. It didn't work anymore. Any system that was so self-complacent that it couldn't see the dangers that were so plain to see, wasn't a good system anymore. Just because something has worked for centuries doesn't mean it has to work forever. Peoples change, and the system's got to change too, adapt itself to the beings it is supposed to protect and serve, not the opposite. Also..." he looked down, in deep shame, "...I was so arrogant that I thought I knew what was best for people. I thought beings were too dumb to know what was good for them. They only cared about their little, insignificant lives, and couldn't see the bigger picture. _I_ could. We needed someone wise to make the decisions and watch for our rights and best interests."

"And you thought that man was Palpatine," Luke nodded compassionately.

Anakin nodded back at him.

"The Clone Wars broke something inside me. Years of carnage, of being misunderstood by my fellow Jedi, and above all, the pressure of knowing I had committed the 'crime' of getting married to your mother when Jedi weren't supposed to feel any kind of attachment, were taking their toll. I was caught up in a spiral of suspicions, insanity and violence that Palpatine made sure to stir up inside me. I became paranoid, I thought they were condemning me, I was certain they were conspiring behind my back. I got angry at Padmé, too. I... I just lost it." He squeezed his eyes shut, shame and guilt eating away at his soul. He shook his head, his expresion conveying a scathing self-contempt. "If beings were so stupid not to see what was best for them, then they should be forced to see it and take it, whether they liked it or not. They ceased to be people in my eyes. Just dumb creatures who couldn't put two and two together. Years of pent up hostility, misunderstandings, unfair rules and emotional repression blew up at last, and turned me into a monster. Not even your mother's love could save me then." He bent his head. "_I_ would make my own destiny, _I_ would be the judge of what was best for people, not the other way round. And all that accumulated anger, hatred and need to control lasted for over 20 years," he finished his tale with an air of hopeless finality.

There was a long silence after Anakin's speech. Luke slowly digested what his father had just poured out and nodded to himself, understanding Anakin's feelings better than he thought possible.

"That is the main difference between you and me, Luke," Anakin suddenly said. "You _can't_ hate people_. I can._ I hated people instead of my own faults, instead of all the ugliness and darkness in me. I was too self-centred to put the blame on me."

"I disagree, Father," Luke immediately rose to his defence. "You were given no choice in the rules that were imposed on you, and you knew there _was_ an alternative, that it could be possible. But you weren't allowed to question anything. And so, you were inexorably pushed to your breaking point. Sure, you had faults and flaws, like all of us do. But those faults shouldn't have led you to the Dark Side. If that was so, half the Jedi would have turned throughout their History." He made a sad face. "How's that old saying: 'the road to hell is paved with good intentions?'"

Anakin smiled ironically.

"Yes, something like that." He took a deep breath, wanting – needing - that subject closed for the present. "It took me decades, but I learned my lessons." He closed his eyes as the weight of his crimes hit him all over again. "No learning process is worth a single life, and mine took millions."

Luke held his father's hands now.

"As you wisely told me days ago, we learn more from our mistakes than from our achievements. Pain, guilt and regret are the best teachers." He reached out and held his father's cheek in his palm. "I am here, Father. I am here for you, forever."

Anakin's chin started trembling and he bit his lower lip.

"You are wise, and the best Jedi Master I, or anyone, could possibly have. From the places you ventured into, places that no one had ever visited before, you uncovered certain truths that no other Master would have ever unveiled. From your own personal experience, you can teach me now that all feelings are valuable because we can learn from them. Even from the negative ones." Luke smiled, as all those truths blossomed inside him. "You've taught me that in holding back my emotions I'm forcing a control on an important part of me that could backfire in the long run." He wiped away the tears that started to roll down his father's face. "Your teachings will save millions of lives in the future, I can feel it."

Anakin let out a strange sound, halfway between a moan and a sob.

"Thank you, Son. You do know how to soothe my soul." He pressed the smaller hand to his cheek. "Bless you, my child."

"No, Father," Luke shook his head, moved down to his very core. "Bless _you_."

Father and son stared at each other, finding an immeasurable comfort in their wordless exchange.

"Time's running short," Anakin finally said. "The meeting's in an hour, so we should get ready."

"Yes," Luke nodded, wishing he could help his father to carry the burden of his past. Sometimes, he wondered how could Anakin still remain sane.

He rose to his feet and searched his closet, looking for the appropriate clothes to wear for the meeting.

Anakin was about to leave the room when Luke suddenly turned about and grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

"You will _never_ turn again, Father, so fear not."

Anakin's eyes bulged, taken aback by his child's insight. He had been very careful to hide his deepest, most rooted fear from his offspring and friends, or so he thought. But it was obvious he had failed all the way through.

"You've known both sides intimately, and your mind and your heart chose to love instead of hate. You know love is the only way."

"In a way, love led me to the Dark Side," Anakin reminded himself as much as his son.

"Because your love was somehow betrayed by those who should have cherished and nurtured it inside you, not crushed or forbidden it," Luke reasoned. "You were allowed to care, but not become too personally involved. And there's a contradiction in terms in that. _Any_ caring is a personal thing. It is impossible to care and detach yourself from that caring at the same time. Love led you to the Dark Side because you were forbidden the physical and emotional expressions of your love. Repression is a mutilation of the spirit's wings, and as you said, those feelings twisted and rotted inside you; and along with your growing resentment, and your guilt feelings for knowing you were doing something strongly disapproved by those you admired and aspired to imitate, turned you into a time bomb. It was just a matter of time before you exploded."

"Oh, Force!" Anakin groaned. He never thought he would ever be understood so utterly. He had _never_ been given a more precious gift.

"You are free to love and be loved now, Father." Luke's eyes filled with tears. "You are free to grow and become that which you were meant to be all along. There is no need to hold back or be afraid; not anymore. You can start training a new generation of Jedi who will be given the best of both times. You cannot fail now."

"Luke..." Anakin whispered, feeling as if the burden of a lifetime was being lifted from his shoulders.

"But it's more than that, Father." Luke went on, unwilling to stop, "We _all_ know you'll never turn again. And you know why? Because you _can't_. You're stuck with our love; your soul is one with the Light. Goodness is _in_ you, it always was, even in your darkest times. Darkness isn't strong enough to stand up against your integrity and your love. You are brave and Darkness is cowardly. It took advantage of you when you felt alone and bereft, betrayed by everyone. It fed you with the only things that could fill the emptiness inside you. It gave you a purpose, something to hold on to when everything else had deserted you and you had nothing else to believe in. But you know better now." Luke smiled and squeezed his father's arm. "I read a poem once. It said that Evil will never touch again those who have known it intimately and still freed themselves from it. They emerge purified by the battle against it, and they will be free forever."

Tears fell down Anakin's face. He had never known such peace and total validation of who he was and who he was meant to be.

Eerily, it connected perfectly with all the things he had seen and felt during his meditation the previous night in that room, lulled and cradled by the sound of his son's breathing. Now he knew he would do the right thing, it didn't matter how hard it was or how much authority and firmness he had to display.

Casting his son a look and a smile that felt to the young man like a baby's first laugh, Anakin left the room.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	3. Chapter 3

The usual bunch was gathered together at their table, enjoying a hurried breakfast, prior to the meeting with their President.

"Hey, with all this mess we didn't get to tell you the trick Luke pulled back on Ansion," Han mumbled in between mouthfuls.

"Han, you promised!" Luke immediately jumped, looking daggers at his friend.

"That was before I lost my bet. Now this is my little revenge, kid," Han replied, unflappable. "Besides, I don't think that hiding the truth is a proper thing for a Jedi to do."

"You'd be surprised at all the things proper for a Jedi to do," the young man threatened.

Han ignored him completely and continued.

"You should have seen him at first. All tall - so to speak - and dignified, addressing Ansion's politicians, or should I say schoolchildren? Anyway, he was all diplomacy and good manners the first couple days. It seemed the whole thing was beginning to work out, until the leaders of the two main opposite parties started fighting each other over some arable lands that were going to end up in no man's land. Both families claimed to have the rights back to a million generations." He made a funny gesture with his face. "So, there we are, all of us, the whole government included, watching these two guys yelling at each other over a piece of land. It turned out that 'the border dispute' was a personal litigation between the two families, and they had involved the Republic and the only available Jedi to arbitrate in an irrelevant personal affair."

"Oh, dear!" Leia shook her head and hid her face in the palm of her hand, just imagining the scene.

Anakin listened to Han's tale intently, somehow feeling that something outrageous was coming, knowing Luke. It didn't surprise him, though. In certain aspects of their personalities, Luke and he truly were the twins Solo accused them of being.

"The two guys had been tearing each other apart verbally for 15 minutes when, Mr. Jedi here, stands up and ceremoniously leaves the Hall without saying a word. Of course," Han pointed at Lando, Chewie and himself, "we hurried to follow him as formally as possible. We returned to our quarters and Luke instructed us to not come out until they came back looking for us. Something they did half an hour later. Well, through the commlink, he claimed to have a terrible headache, so he wasn't to be disturbed until they learned to speak quietly."

Leia spluttered her juice all over her plate.

"The next morning," Han went on, "he woke up early and went to take a stroll, happening to return from the lands in question, two mako fruits in hand. When we were politely invited to return to the negotiations, with the promise of a more civilized talk, he agreed, just as civilly. Once back in the Hall, all serious and composed, he took out the two mako fruits and started eating one deliberately. When he finished eating it and he was licking his fingers, and I mean _licking his fingers, _and everybody was looking at him, he said, more or less," Han sat up straight in his chair and did his best to imitate his young friend's voice and attitude. "You know? These mako fruits are really delicious and after eating one, I can understand why you two are at each other's throats, trying to keep that blasted land. But you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to recommend to the President to requisition the land. This fruit is too good to not be shared with the rest of the galaxy. As compensation, you'll receive the equivalent in money of the best possible harvest, and also, a monthly shipment of Gungan onions, free of charge, until you grow up."

This time, Anakin choked on his breakfast and Lando slapped his back until he started breathing normally again.

"Next, he stood up and threw this final pearl: 'I pity your poor citizens, having to cope with such childish politicians.' And then, he turned about and left the Hall again, munching on the second fruit, in no hurry whatsoever." Han made a short pause. "I tell you, _we_ couldn't walk fast enough to get out of there."

The silence stretched longer than usual, and Luke realized everybody was looking at him.

"Hey, what's the matter?" He put out his hands, palms up, shrugging innocently. "I meditated all night and I knew the Force was with me. I did what I had to do." Everybody could see the twinkle in his eyes.

"And judging from the results, you most certainly did," Anakin managed to utter, his mouth still wide open.

"Sure he did!" Han exclaimed. "We had no news from them until 24 hours later. In the meantime, he refused to contact here and tell Mon Mothma he had messed up the assignment."

"And that's when you made the bet." Leia could see it all as clearly as if she had been there.

"Yeah," Han nodded, clearly annoyed. "So, the morning after, we were once again politely invited to a final meeting. You should have seen him when he showed up, wearing those elegant robes! He outclassed all those petty simpletons and put them in place with only his clothes!" Han's admiration for Luke was taking over his tale now, but the former pirate didn't seem to notice, and if he did, he didn't mind showing it. "For the first time, an older man, who had remained mostly quiet all the previous meetings, stood up and made a short speech. He admitted they had no right to involve the Republic in a personal dispute. He acknowledged they had made a mistake that could disgrace them in the eyes of the whole galaxy, but they deserved it, and if it was really our intention to requisition the land, we were entitled to do it."

"Well, at least there was one grown-up there. That's a relief!" Anakin commented.

"So, what did you do?" Leia asked Luke.

"The only logical thing I could think of: I told them to split the land in two halves, as any five-year old would have suggested," the young man replied.

"And he's quoting himself verbatim," Lando pointed out.

"I also told them that the requisition threat was still in the air, just in case there were any more fights in the schoolyard."

Anakin covered his mouth with one hand, trying to hide his amusement. It was clear that Luke had inherited many things from him. Thank heavens, he hadn't inherited his quicksilver temper, that had gotten him into more troubles than he could think about. He had mocked and insulted Ansion's goverment with such class and fine irony that no one had been able to refute him. He had somehow managed to make his irony and his temper work in his favour. If this was an example of what Luke could do as a mediator, then he had the brightest future ahead of him. Sure, he hadn't been asked to make any life and death decision, but silly missions like this put a mediator's capacities to the test, and quite often showed the stuff they were made of.

The older man shook his head, remembering what he had been about to do when he visited the planet with Obi-Wan, 25 years ago. Thank heavens, Obi-Wan had been able to restrain him, and prevented him from voicing his opinion, in a far less refined fashion than his child had shown. Still, his attitude and killer looks left pretty clear his opinion of Ansion's government.

"So," Han took over his tale, "the spokesman, speaking in the name of the government, promised to consider Luke's suggestion and apologized for summoning him over such an irrelevant matter, and the meeting was adjourned."

There was a short silence that was broken by Lando, who absently massaged his left shoulder, trying to alleviate the soreness and pain there. The shockwaves of the explosion had thrown them all backwards, and he had landed on his shoulder in a very bad position.

"I'm curious, though," he said. "What did that old man tell you when we were leaving?"

Luke smiled impishly, with a blending of pride and mischievousness, as he cast his father a quick look out of the corner of his eyes.

"He told me several things," he replied. "That he was impressed by the way I had handled such a slippery and embarrassing situation for all the parties involved. That he considered I was very mature for my age. He also apologized for the way some of them had looked down on me, jugding me only by my youth." For a second, it seemed as if he was going to say something else, but he closed his mouth and a soft flush covered his cheeks.

"And?" Leia prompted.

"Well," the blush became even more noticeable. "He also said that it had been very refreshing for him to see the resemblance between father and son."

Everybody's eyes bulged in surprise.

"He remembered *me*?" Anakin was too astonished for words.

"Vividly," Luke replied. "He said that he considered it a shame that Obi-Wan didn't allow you to speak your heart out 25 years ago. He was certain that your words would have snapped more than one out of their 'intellectual stupor'. But it was worth waiting so many years to see his colleagues 'beaten hollow'."

They burst out laughing at that.

"Oh, my!" Anakin exclaimed, wiping his eyes. "Let's hope that the seed you planted there will come to fruition one day."

"And the sooner the better for all of us," Han crowned, going cross-eyed expressively and making his friends laugh again.

"That's my boy," Leia applauded her beloved, planting a smooch on Han's lips.

Han moaned in pain and flinched, the cut on his upper lip reminding them of the wounds that still were to heal.

Leia made an apologetic face and squeezed Han's hand comfortingly. He caressed her cheek lovingly, telling her it was okay and conveying his regret that they had to limit their displays of affection for a while.

Immediately, Luke turned his head and looked at his father, asking him a question with his eyes. Anakin nodded and gave his child an encouraging smile.

Taking a deep breath and trying to control his sudden nervousness, Luke reached out his left hand and placed it on Lando's injured shoulder very gently, aware of its soreness. He closed his eyes and concentrated.

Lando watched Luke's unexpected gesture curiously, but let him be, not knowing what was the young man up to. A few seconds later, he made a strange face and looked at his shoulder suspiciously.

"What the...?" he asked. He felt a funny tingling that could only be of Luke's doing.

Some time later, Luke opened his eyes and moved his hand away.

"How're you feeling?" he asked, in trepidation.

Lando brought his hand up to his shoulder and gingerly squeezed all over the formerly aching and bruised area. Nothing. There was no pain at all. He started rotating the articulation back and forth. Nothing!

"It doesn't hurt anymore!" he said. "What did you do?"

Luke smiled, happy that it had worked.

"It seems I didn't lose my 'touch', after all." There was an intentional double meaning in his joke that only Anakin got. It still worried him that his friends might look at him differently because of something so big, but there was no turning back now. He turned his eyes to Han, a hint of apprehension in his blue eyes. "Han, do you want me to try?" he asked softly.

"Uh, oh, er... Sure!" Han babbled.

Luke rose to his feet and walked up to the other side of the table, sitting down beside his friend. He reached out both hands, placing one of them softly on the deep cut on his upper lip and the other on the bruise on the right side of his forehead. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

The warm tingling took Han completely by surprise and he jerked back a little. But he quickly pulled himself together.

A little while later, Luke blinked his eyes open and put down his hands.

There was a collective gasp when Han's face emerged completely healed from both wounds. Not even a little scar remained. It was as if the wounds had never existed.

"L-Luke!" Leia exclaimed, more moved than words could express. "How do you do that?"

"I don't know," the young man replied, looking down at his hands as if seeing them for the very first time. "It's the Force. I didn't know I could do it until I healed Father on the Death Star."

"The healing gift is extremely rare," Anakin explained, seeking to distract his friends' attention away from Luke. "It's shrouded in the veil of legend. Every Jedi is supposed to have a very special gift, something they truly excel in, but very few ever find it."

"And what's your gift?" Lando anticipated everyone with his question.

"I still don't know," Anakin answered. "Just like Luke, I'm equally good at all the things Jedi were usually known for: telepathy, telekinesis, empathy, premonition... but nothing 'out of the ordinary', so to speak."

"And how did you find out that you could heal Father?" Leia asked her brother. "What inspired you to try and heal him, if you didn't know you could do it?"

Luke paled visibly, and his eyes became elusive. The time of truth had come and he didn't know what to do.

"Palpatine's counter-attack damaged my respirator beyond repair," Anakin butted in, before their friends started wondering about Luke's weird reaction. "I was a dead man already. It was sheer despair that made Luke try it."

Luke couldn't help a short, dry laugh at his father's clever choice of words. Only the two of them knew he was speaking literally.

But a part of him rebelled, sickened by the fact that his father was essentially lying to protect him. And it felt wrong. It _was_ wrong. He couldn't let his father lie for him, even if it was out of love.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trusting the Force to guide him through this. In a rush of inspiration and insight, he stopped his father's misleading explanation.

"No, Father. No more lies. Never again," he let out with surprising authority and in an unaccustomed deep voice.

"Luke..." Anakin was well aware of his son's fear. He wasn't ready yet for such a big revelation, and he didn't want him to feel forced to disclose a bit of information that could change his friends' perception of him forever.

"No. It is time. I can feel it. It's all right." Luke grasped Anakin's hand on the table and squeezed it reassuringly. He took another deep breath and braved his friends' puzzled expressions. "You see, Father wasn't lying when he said he was 'a dead man already.' He meant it literally."

It took a while for his words to sink in.

"You mean... He was already dead? Really dead?" Han asked, his eyes almost popping out of their sockets.

Luke nodded gravely.

"He died on me in the hangar. And there was nothing I could do." His face twisted in pain and despair. The same pain and despair that had consumed him back then. "I broke down. I had craved for my father all my life, and I'd lost him right after getting him back. I felt so alone and bereft that I couldn't..." His eyes misted helplessly. "I just wanted my father back!" he exclaimed, reliving those terrible memories. "I began daydreaming, imagining that I could heal him so we could be free to get to know each other and have a bright future together. And suddenly..." he closed his eyes and his features illuminated, "...I felt his hand caressing my head. I looked up and..."

"...And there he was, alive and healthy," Leia finished for him, moved to her very core by her brother's story. Her skin filled with goosebumps at the mental emanations Luke was unconsciously sending. She felt like reaching across the table and holding him tight.

"I didn't know it was possible, I just thought about it and... and it happened," Luke tried to explain himself.

There was a long silence, filled with awe.

"Does this mean you can... resuscitate people?" Lando asked, tentatively.

"No, it means I was able to bring my father back," Luke corrected him. "Somehow, he wasn't supposed to die that day. I was merely the instrument for the Force to set right what had gone wrong. When your time comes, nothing and no one will bring you back. That I _do_ know."

There was another pause, as his friends absorbed what he was saying.

"I have the healing gift, which means I can heal wounds, but I can't bring back the dead at will. You understand the difference?" he looked at them anxiously.

"I think I do," Han slowly replied, staring at his friend solemnly.

"Yes," Lando nodded, squeezing his own shoulder, still unable to believe the miracle. But he was touching it. Touching it!

Leia watched her brother with a mixture of all-encompassing love and admiration beyond belief.

The final piece of the puzzle had fit at last. This was the intimate connection between her father and brother she had felt right from the start. Their lives were inextricably bound, for each of them was the source of the other's life. It was all love. The most generous, selfless love. A love so deep and abiding that had given Luke the self-awareness to drag his father from the clutches of Death itself.

And whenever she looked at them together, everything made sense. Beautiful, perfect sense. And she knew her friends felt it, too. This was just _meant to be_.

At that moment, Chewie growled a warning.

"You're right, pal!" Han stood up as if he had springs on his feet. "The meeting! We had forgotten about it."

Little by little, the others stood up as well, preparing themselves mentally for the upcoming meeting with their President, and the important matters that had to be discussed.

When they were heading for the door, Han stopped Luke by putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, kid."

Unthinkably relieved by the nickname that spoke volumes, Luke turned to his friend, still a bit uncertain.

"Why didn't you tell us about it sooner?" Han asked. "We've known each other for years and I think we deserved to know."

Luke looked down, not knowing how to answer. He could see he had hurt his friend's feelings by not telling him sooner, but he couldn't help how he felt. He looked into Han's eyes, begging for understanding.

"You thought that once we found out we'd treat you differently, we'd look at you differently, right?" Han answered for him, squeezing his shoulder.

Luke looked down, and nodded.

Han felt his heart melting with love for that young man, so full of doubts and insecurites, even though he was the most powerful being in the galaxy. He'd never met anyone so intrinsically good and pure, and he thanked the gods that the little Jedi was a major part of his life.

"If you don't know better after all these years, your Jedi abilities need some serious honing, little brother. Come here." And with that, he held Luke in a crushing hug.

Luke returned the hug fiercely, wrapping his arms tight around his friend, not believing his good fortune and his many blessings. He looked up, thanking the heavens, for no being could possibly have better friends.

When they moved back, Han ruffled his hair playfully, making them both let out a shaky laugh.

Lando squeezed Luke's arm, making him turn his head to look at him.

"The same goes for me, Luke," he said, smiling softly. "Thank you."

"Thank *you*, Lando," Luke replied, reaching up and shaking warmly the hand on his arm.

"Luke," Leia called softly.

The young Jedi immediately faced his sister, reaching out to her. She threw herself into his arms, and they clung to each other for all they were worth.

"It's all right. Everything's all right," she whispered to him, trying to hold back her tears. "Thank you for bringing him back. For returning him to the Republic, to our lives... to _me_," she finally admitted, choking on her words.

"Leia," Luke was beyond words and he held her closer.

It took them a long time to release each other and when they did, they smiled, leaning on each other's foreheads.

Chewie's furious growling brought them back to the present with a start.

"What is it, Chewie?" Luke asked in alarm, for he had understood the Wookie's apparently angry calling of his name.

Chewie pointed at his left hand exaggeratedly, demanding something of him.

Finally, Luke realized what his friend was asking him, and burst out laughing in delight.

"I'm sorry, Chewie. Of course I intended to heal you, too!" He held the big paw in his hand tenderly. "Where does it hurt?" he asked.

Chewie pointed at the inner part of his wrist, so Luke closed his eyes and wrapped his hand around the Wookie's wrist, concentrating deeply.

"Better now?" he asked some time later, opening his eyes. "No!" He cried out when he saw those long, massive arms reaching for him.

But there was no stopping Chewie's grateful bearhug and the muffled laughs around them.

When he was released, Luke smiled fondly at his big hairy friend, and scratched his singed fur happily.

"Question!" Han suddenly said.

"Yes?" Luke turned to his friend.

"Why didn't you heal yourself?" Han asked, quite logically.

"Because I can't," Luke replied, shrugging. "Apparently, my healing gift doesn't work on me."

"That's not fair!" Lando complained.

"I find it somehow fitting, don't ask me why," Luke said, shrugging again. "Well!" He squared his shoulders and pointed at the doors. "Shall we, my friends?" he invited.

* * *

"So," Mon Mothma said, once everybody had taken their seats around the huge round table in the centre of the Great Hall. "Yesterday's emergency cabinet didn't really cast any light on what happened on Ansion. Their government claims time and again they had nothing to do with it, and although we're conducting a thorough investigation, I'm inclined to believe them." She looked around her. "Do we all agree on this?"

"Yes," Han spoke for all of them. "They're too dumb and self-centred to try such a thing."

There was a soft rumble of amusement.

"Thank you, General Solo, for your always refreshing assessment of the situation," Mon Mothma replied in her usual display of dry humour.

"My pleasure." Han just couldn't resist it.

"Still, I think we shouldn't rule out the possibility of it," Areen Worzzlek reminded them all. "Whoever did this, didn't choose Ansion just because. Either they wanted us to believe that there is some side connection with the planet..."

"...Or they're misleading us deliberately," Lando finished for him.

"Exactly," Areen admitted with a nod.

"I know it is too soon to offer any candidates," Admiral Ackbar spoke for the first time. "There have been no violent outbursts of any kind anywhere in the galaxy since the birth of the New Republic. Just the inevitable smuggling business that will always be there, I'm afraid, and other smuggling-related operations. But nothing on a bigger scale."

"What do we know about the land-mine itself?" Mon Mothma asked, to no one in particular.

"From what's left of it, our experts concluded it came from the Kessel mines. It was an old TK-1 model, used mostly in illegal prospecting in the Outer Rim. It was set off by an infrared sensor, although they're usually detonated with a remote." Lando explained.

"Any ideas about who or why? Even a long shot will do," Mon Mothma encouraged her staff.

"It is too soon to tell, I agree with Admiral Ackbar," Anakin said. "Any theory we come up with at this point might be plausible. However, there are some facts we cannot overlook." He sat up straighter in his seat. "One: they were after either one of the Peace party or all of them. That indicates it was an attack against the Republic, since they're all either members of the Government or they work for it. Two: they failed. Three: they will try again."

An ominous silence befell them all as the implications of Anakin's words sank in.

"The way to Peace is still a way to go," Mon Mothma summarized everybody's thoughts. She took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "Suggestions? Recommendations?"

"I would suggest we didn't change our schedule in the least," General Madine advised. "Next time Jedi Skywalker is asked to mediate in any other conflict, we should assign him a heavier escort, some especially equipped team. But it's paramount we don't change our ways. We must let whoever's behind this know that they didn't succeed in their efforts to intimidate us. We're sticking together, strong and firm."

"I totally agree, especially on the heavier escort idea," Leia approved.

"So do I," Anakin said in a strange tone of voice.

"Me too," concurred Lando, Han and Chewie.

"Intelligence is still correlating all data supplied by our experts at the site and Ansion's Security Forces," Captain Ylek reminded them. "If they come up with anything new, they'll let us know."

There was a long pause.

"Well, this is when the New Republic must show what it is really made of." Mon Mothma's authority rose above the gloomy mood. All of them had fallen too easily into the safe routine of Peace, and the belief that everything would be smooth and easy. This attack had proved them all wrong. It proved there still were dangerous elements out there, ready to blow up the foundations of newborn Democracy. Well, it was certainly unfortunate, unwelcome and discouraging news, but they would take courage from their own inner strength and they would survive, stronger than ever. "We already know we have an enemy and _they_ know _we_ know. I am afraid we have no choice but take all necessary precautions and wait."

"And that's usually the moment when innocents start to die," Captain Thazzel pointed out angrily.

Everybody at the table knew just how right Thazzel was and they remained silent, quietly agreeing with him and swallowing their own anger and feeling of helplessness.

"But before we suspend this meeting, I want to congratulate Jedi Skywalker for his successful, albeit unorthodox mission on Ansion," Mon Mothma suddenly said, in an obvious but dignified attempt to boost her staff's morale. "Your gift as a mediator is not a promise anymore, but a reality, young man. Well done. I have the utmost confidence in you."

"Thank you, Mrs. President," Luke managed to blurt out in the midst of his fierce blushing. It was obvious from Mon Mothma's words that she was aware of the highly unconventional approach he had taken, but it also showed she approved of it, if her knowing, kind smile was anything to go by.

The President's gaze turned from the young Jedi to all the people gathered around the table.

"This is all for now, gentlebeings. We shall meet again when Intelligence has finished their investigation and they have a report for us. Thank you." She bowed her head to them, in her usual gesture of respect, and stood up.

All the others followed suit. Little by little, either alone or in small groups, they left the Great Hall.

All but Anakin.

Luke realized his father wanted to speak alone with the President, so he nodded to him and followed his sister and friends out.

* * *

Mon Mothma looked up and saw her Vice-President standing opposite her on the other side of the table.

"Yes?" she asked, inviting Anakin to speak.

"I hope we can apprehend those behind this scheme. Because we all know, as Captain Thazzel wisely reminded us, that innocent blood will be shed sooner or later," Anakin opened the conversation.

Mon Mothma nodded, a shadow clouding her features.

"There's something else I wanted to talk to you about," Anakin went straight to the point, as was his custom.

"Yes?" she repeated, raising her eyebrows, immediately interested in anything he had to say. She had been thoroughly impressed by all the input she had gotten from him from the very beginning. "What is it?"

"It's about my son."

"He handled this slippery mission remarkably." Mon Mothma didn't bite her tongue as far as commending her staff's abilities was concerned. "He's an incredibly resourceful, intuitive and clever young man. He'll carry on with his assignments brilliantly, I am certain of that."

"I am, too," Anakin let out a little smile that couldn't hide his fatherly pride in his child. "But that's not what I wanted to discuss."

"Well?" She shrugged slightly.

"It's about your decision to not allow me to accompany him on his missions as a mediator. That was the function of the Jedi in the Old Republic. And I _am_ a Jedi," Anakin reminded her with an intense look.

"You're also the Vice-President of the Republic," Mon Mothma reminded him back.

"I am aware of my oath to this Government and the galaxy," Anakin said in a deep voice, dead serious, that left no doubt about where his loyalties lay. "But I'm also well aware of the fact that my role in the Government is mostly a supportive, secondary one, with no actual duties; only to take over when you're off-planet, or when I'm carrying out an official trip of my own. The rest of the time, my presence here serves no practical purpose. Therefore, it hurts no one that I..."

"Ah, I see what's the bottom line of this," the President smiled in gentle understanding.

"Do you?" Anakin asked rhetorically.

"Of course. It doesn't take a genius to see how much you care for your children." There was no accusation or mockery of Anakin's feelings in her words. If anything, her voice was even gentler. "Yesterday's terrible incident awakened you to the fact that you could have lost your son, and your fatherly instincts have taken over. You don't want to let young Skywalker out of your sight."

"You're partially correct," Anakin admitted. "But that's not all, not in the least. I am not only Anakin Skywalker, Vice-President of the New Republic. I am also Jedi Master Anakin Skywalker. It is mine and my son's intention to rebuild the Jedi Order, and we can't undertake such a project if we have to dedicate 100% of our time to our duties as members of the Government. You said it was also your intention to bring back the Order."

"It is," Mon Mothma nodded vigorously. "But first of all, the New Republic must have settled enough for us to feel safe giving you two other responsibilities. You'll agree with me about this."

"I do," Anakin agreed. "And I concur that the reconstruction of the Jedi Order will have to wait for some time. But I think you've forgotten that my first and greatest duty in this life is to my children. They are my top priority, now and forever. Any member of the Government is granted leaves of absence to take care of their personal matters. All I ask of you is to grant me those leaves of absence to accompany my son."

Mon Mothma understood that Anakin had made up his mind about it, and she knew how stubborn he could get, especially where it concerned his children. She tried a different approach.

"Anakin," her features softened. "Children must live their own lives sooner or later. We have to accept the fact that we won't be able to protect them forever. It's the only way for them to learn and develop their full potential. Agreed, your son's way of life is far more dangerous than most, but it's the life he has chosen, just like you did. Besides, there's no guarantee that your presence could be of any help, should something like what happened on Ansion take place again. Give some credit to his escorts and the team I intend to assign to back them up."

Anakin's face couldn't hide his disappointment when he saw she was totally missing the point.

"Besides, I expect Luke's missions to increase, once his reputation as a Jedi becomes well-known across the galaxy," she argued. "I couldn't grant you constant leaves of absence. Your duties as Vice-President would conflict." She smiled apologetically. "I am sorry."

Anakin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, his face was calm again, and he made a new attempt to reason with his President.

"We could find a way to make it work. We only have to be willing to be more flexible in our positions," he began. "Just let me..."

"I don't see how could that be possible; at least, for now." There was finality in Mon Mothma's words. "This sudden crisis demands from us to be at our posts, and in the future, your son's number of missions will be so high that leaves of absence will be out of the question." Her tone of voice clearly indicated that this was the end of the discussion. "I am really sorry, but you will have to accept my decision, and trust your child and his friends' capacity to take care of themselves. They're overqualified in that department, after four years of war against the Empire."

Anakin withdrew into himself for a few seconds, touching the Force and verifying he was doing the right thing.

"Is this your final decision?" he asked.

"Yes, it is," she stated.

With a final intake of breath, Anakin made his own decision.

"Then, I hereby offer you my resignation as the Vice-President of the New Republic," he declared, in an unfaltering voice.

Mon Mothma's face lost all expression for a moment.

"What?" she asked at last, in a less-than-presidential manner, not believing what she'd just heard. "You can't do that!" She recovered quite nicely, considering how shocked she was inside.

"I just did," Anakin said, unflappable.

"Members of the Government can't resign whenever it suits them!" Her voice couldn't disguise the outrage she felt.

"It's not a question of it suiting me or not. You gave me no other choice," Anakin shrugged regretfully. "`Incompatibility of schedule in regard to family matters.' Many politicians are forced to resign when there's a long-term issue within their families, that won't allow them to dedicate the necessary time to their job."

"But this is not the case and you know it," Mon Mothma accused.

"It most certainly is," Anakin corrected her. "My family is infinitely more important to me, you always knew that. If forced to choose, then my decision is already made."

"Mr. Skywalker, you're not exactly a worker in an engines factory, where another workmate can cover your post. You have a responsibility to billions of beings." The President was back full force, speaking with all the authority she could muster.

The wounded expression on Anakin's face showed the impact of her words. His features hardened in an instinctive attempt to cover the deep hurt.

"It is quite unfair to try and coerce me with the billions of lives I am supposed to protect. You know you have the best possible hand just brandishing the guilt card on me, because of my past. The past I cannot change or compensate, even if I lived a thousand lives. But I happen to _know_ I'm doing the right thing. It doesn't matter how much guilt you dump on me, you will never give me more than I already give myself. Still, I will not change my mind about this." He bowed his head, respectfully. "And now, good day, your Excellency."

Something snapped inside Mon Mothma then. She wasn't only losing the best member of her Government, she was losing her emotional support and anchor, her voice of reason. For she had come to depend and rely on Anakin's judgement and understanding in the past six months, as much as she had confided in Areen Worzzlek for the past four years.

"You _are_ the Vice-President of the Republic!" she exclaimed, her voice echoing in the Hall's walls, in a final, angrily desperate outburst.

"I _am_ a _Father_!" Anakin's voice immediately followed hers, just as strong, even though he hadn't raised his voice. "First and foremost."

They stared at each other in a contest of wills that neither could win, for both of them were right, and both of them were wrong.

"The Republic needs you." Mon Mothma yielded first, not bothering to hide what the two of them knew. "I need you," she admitted at last. It didn't feel like a weakness to admit such a thing, because it was the truth. Anakin was the kindest, gentlest being she had ever known, and she knew those vulnerable words would never be used against her. It was also the greatest gift of trust and friendship she could offer. "If you leave..." she trailed off.

"I do _not_ want to leave," Anakin reminded her softly, his own outburst fading away. "I wanted us to find a way around this issue and solve it to our mutual satisfaction."

She sighed out loud and offered him a seat at the empty table. He nodded and waited until she took her seat first. They sat facing each other.

"What do you suggest?" she asked.

"I am aware of the fact that Luke's missions will increase in time," Anakin began. "And it was never my intention to accompany him on _all_ his assignments, only on those where I _felt_ I should go, to offer him all the backup and experience I have from the time I was a Jedi in the Old Republic. These first missions are the trickiest for him, since he has no experience whatsoever as a diplomat. When he's garnered enough skill to handle himself in all situations, I'd stop accompanying him. Besides which, I'd never go with him should you be off-planet on an official trip. My leaving Coruscant would be subject to my presence here not being indispensable."

"Is that all?" Mon Mothma couldn't believe that could be all, judging from the way he had resisted her decision. Until she realized she had never given him the chance to explain himself. She tried not to flush.

"Well," Anakin hesitated for a moment, "I must admit I have an ulterior motive."

She raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"It would also be a good time for me to start... venturing out. So people could start seeing me as Anakin Skywalker, not..."

The other name resounded all over the Hall even though it was left unsaid.

Mon Mothma's features softened as Anakin's intentions became finally clear. He didn't want to remain 'locked up' in a tower, apart from the world. It could convey the wrong impression to the people. The impression that he was too afraid or too self-centred to take the chance and _venture out_, as he had so aptly put it. He wanted the galaxy to see him as someone accessible, someone who didn't represent a threat anymore. He wanted them to see it and touch it. To _feel_ that certainty. To know this was _their_ Vice-President, someone who cared about their problems and would always be there for them.

He was taking a huge personal risk, too, as far as his own safety was concerned, but she also knew that Anakin knew.

"There is something else you're not telling me," she said in a sudden flash of insight. "What is it?"

Anakin jerked back a little, taken by surprise. She might not be Force-sensitive, but she had shown them all time and again she didn't need it to see right through people.

"There's another possibility you haven't considered for the attack against the Peace party."

"Really?" she straightened up in her chair as a chill ran up and down her spine. "What possibility?"

"The possibility that I am the real target," he revealed calmly.

"_You? _How could you possibly be the target? You were here on Coruscant!" For a second, she almost doubted Anakin's sanity.

"Exactly," he nodded. "And what better way to destroy me than murdering my son instead? I'd be as good as dead, then."

The absolute horror in his intense blue eyes awakened Mon Mothma once again to the depth of that man's love for his children. A love that was no secret anywhere in the galaxy after all these months.

She nodded as the implications of Anakin's words became hideously clear.

"You're correct. This could be a personal vengeance against you, for all the crimes you committed under your former identity."

"Your decision to make me your Vice-President could be backfiring already," Anakin's voice sounded infinitely old and sad. He didn't say _'as I told you'_ because he didn't have to.

"No!" she exclaimed, as if wanting to make that possibility go away by sheer force of will. "I made the right decision, and we both know it," she stated. "Whatever it is, there is more to it than that. I can feel it. And you feel it, too."

"True," Anakin agreed, looking away. "But if my supposition is even partially correct, and they're somehow after me, _I_ should be out there; not risking my son's life while I'm staying safe at home, like a rotten coward."

"I understand," Mon Mothma nodded gently. She withdrew into herself for a little while, considering everything Anakin had told her and her own feelings about it. His request was reasonable and it posed no immediate conflict with his duties as Vice-President. With a little goodwill, they could work it out. She smiled softly. "Very well, Mr. Skywalker. Request granted. I leave it to your discretion when to accompany your son."

Anakin's answering grateful smile lit up the Hall.

"Thank you, Mrs. President," he said from the bottom of his heart.

There was a short pause as they stared at each other, feeling as if they had just fought a stampede of reeks and survived. They smiled at each other knowingly.

"May I be excused?" Anakin asked at last.

She nodded at him and watched him stand up.

"Anakin," she called out to him gently when he was heading for the door.

He turned about and looked at her as she rose to her feet.

"I didn't intend to coerce you in any way," she stated adamantly.

"I know," Anakin's features filled with shame and regret. "It was my own susceptibility that made me answer without thinking." He looked down for a few moments before braving her gaze again. "I humbly apologize."

"No need," she shook her head kindly.

Anakin smiled softly and turned about again.

"By the way, would you mind telling me why General Solo and Calrissian's faces look so healthy today, but your son's doesn't?" Mon Mothma asked out of the blue.

Anakin froze in his tracks and turned about sharply, meeting his President's smiling, full of mischief countenance.

The man's reaction was all she needed to see her suspicions confirmed.

"Ah, I see. Your son healed them; because if it had been you, young Skywalker's face would be healed, too."

Anakin blinked a few times and ended up looking aside, letting out a soft, short laugh.

"Very perceptive of you, Mrs. President," he commended her.

"I always enjoyed reading mystery stories," she shrugged, in pretended modesty, pursuing the light mood between them. "And I also presume that he can't heal himself."

"Also correct." Anakin looked dejectedly at his hands, hating them for a second. Those hands, that had taken so many lives, couldn't even heal the cuts and bruises on his son's face. He dropped them at his sides, with a despondent sigh.

Then, he felt a warm, comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, Mr. Vice-President. You have many other gifts, also."

Anakin met the caring brown eyes that regarded him with so much compassion. But it wasn't the kind of compassion that hurt. Quite the contrary. He felt unthinkably comforted by it.

She had also accepted him completely right from the start. Her fierce defence of him these past few months showed just how much she trusted him, and relied on his judgement. Her trust had been determinant in his decision to accept the Vice-Presidency of the New Republic. And so far, he didn't regret that decision. With such an indomitable, fair, capable and intelligent leader, it was easy to trust himself.

Yes, this was his Destiny. At last, he was what he was meant to be.

He smiled down at her.

"Thank you, for everything." He could say no more.

She nodded at him and squeezed his shoulder.

"Tell your son that if I have some ailment sometime, I will send for him," she cracked.

Anakin laughed softly.

"I will."

They looked at each other for another moment, and with a nod, she put down her hand and watched him leaving the Hall.

When she was left alone, Mon Mothma turned about and faced the big round table. She bent forward and rested her hands on it, taking a long, deep breath. She released it in a quick blow, the heavy mantle of duty falling once again on her shoulders. And along with it, the latest challenge to Peace. She looked up, begging for some help and inspiration.

On the other side of the great doors, Anakin practically mirrored her gestures, reaching for the Force instead. He prayed to be up to the threat they were facing. Threat that was about to strike again and take its first casualties.

He could feel it.

* * *

For the next few days, things seemed to reach an impasse. Nothing out of the ordinary happened.

Making the most of their sudden free time, Luke and Anakin decided to start training Leia, and the three of them locked themselves up in the hall where Master Yoda used to train all padawan children, in the hope they could find some inspiration there on how to train the Princess properly.

Leia couldn't hide her wariness at first, and it took hours for them to calm her enough to get her to the right level to start meditating.

She kept on opening her eyes to verify they were there and she was doing it right, and it suddenly occurred to them that she might feel pressured with them hanging around, watching her, so they began training apart, while Leia tried to meditate in a comfortable corner. When that didn't work either, they decided to leave the room, so she could find her own way, undisturbed.

Then, she told them to return, because their presence was soothing and she felt more focused when they were near.

Little by little, her mind got used to reaching deeper and deeper levels, until it became relatively easy for her.

Next, they thought this could be a good time to teach her to handle a lightsaber.

They decided to show her all the range of possibilities the Force had first, so she knew how all of it was, how it felt and what to expect. Then, they would train her, one category at a time.

Since they only had two lightsabers and Leia refused to have one of her own for now, they trained her in turn. She was a very agile, athletic person, so in no time she was swinging the sword around, getting the feel of it, and learning the basic moves of Form I.

When she decided she was ready to use a seeker, Luke just couldn't stop smiling, seeing himself that day in the Millennium Falcon, listening to Obi-Wan's instructions and getting repeatedly hit by the blasted little thing.

Curiously, it was when Luke suggested they'd cover her face with a helmet that she began feeling the Force, learning to recognize it and deflecting the seeker's blasts instinctively.

Father and son looked at each other and nodded with a smile, feeling quite satisfied with how things were progressing. At least, for now. Leia was their first padawan, and leaving aside the fact that they were personally involved in that project, since they were training someone they both loved fiercely, they couldn't forget the fact that they were basically feeling their way through the whole process. It was doubly stressing for them, especially because of the risks involved should they fail.

They encouraged Leia time and again to tell them whenever she felt they were doing something wrong, to make all the suggestions she wanted, and let them know what worked better for her and what took her more time to understand. Constant communication was the only way for the three of them to learn and improve as masters and padawan. They couldn't afford the tiniest slip here. This was the only exception to the 'trial and error' axiom.

They were inventing a new way of training, picking up the lessons that had worked better for them; but that didn't necessarily mean they had to work for Leia, as well. So, depending on what she told them, they switched to Luke's way, Anakin's, Yoda's, Obi-Wan's or whatever lesson Anakin remembered from the other Jedi Masters.

Leia had to admit she felt more and more comfortable about her training. Most of her fears evaporated the more she delved into the disciplines, and got in touch with the Force inside and outside her. It was the most illuminating experience, and she felt like a child venturing out into a whole new world. One that had been there all along, right at the edge of her consciousness.

She got used to meditating a little while every morning, after waking up, and spending her free time with her father and brother, learning a little bit more every day.

She found an inner peace she hadn't realized she needed until then.

An entire week passed thus. In the meantime, Intelligence reported that their investigation on Ansion, on the site and the information provided by Ansion's government didn't cast much light on the attack on the Peace party. The ensuing meeting ended almost as fast as it began, the only conclusions being the assignment of an especially trained and equipped team to protect Luke and his escorts in his upcoming missions. Everything else would remain the same. Their schedules wouldn't change. They would show no weakness or fear.

Two days later, Luke was assigned his second mission: to mediate in a territorial conflict on Uzkida, whose moon's delegated government had suddenly decided to become independent from the planet. Diplomatic meetings had been useless and the growing hostility between the moon and her mother planet was dangerously leading towards a civil war.

When Luke learned of his mission, he panicked. He knew only too well how much hatred and violence separatist movements had brought to the galaxy, and he felt totally incapable of handling such a unstable situation.

Anakin agreed to accompany him and offer all the help he could, but at the last moment, his presence was required in an urgent meeting that would decide the security measures the Government would take to ensure the maximum protection of its staff, buildings and ships. His advice was essential, given his past as Commander of the Imperial Fleet and his priceless knowledge about Security, Strategy and Intelligence.

It took hours for Anakin to calm down his child and assure him he would handle his mission well. Anakin's blind faith in his son's gift was contagious, but it took a lot of hugging and pampering to reassure Luke.

Privately, Anakin asked Han, Lando and Chewie to support and help Luke with all the knowledge and experience they had. Any help would be valuable, because should they fail, his son would take it as a personal failure.

Luke was deadly pale when he bid his father and sister goodbye on the landing platform, but he bravely swallowed his fear and faced his destiny, determined to do his very best.

Once again, Anakin watched the Millennium Falcon getting smaller and smaller as he let out a dejected sigh, wishing he could be there, giving his child the help and support he would need. But he couldn't shirk his own responsibilities, and this time, they had gotten in the way.

* * *

The next few days were very hectic for the Skywalker family and friends. Anakin was quite busy helping to design strategies, alternate exits and evacuation plans for the Republic's most important buildings; plus, he was assigned the drills that would put those designs to the test.

Compared to the slow pace and terribly boring meetings with the Senate of a few days ago, Anakin could hardly keep up with all his responsibilities now, and at the end of the day he was dead beat. He flopped down on his bed, craving for its warmth and softness. He had to admit he had been mistaken. His duties as a Vice-President were anything _but_ dull. At least, now.

Still, it didn't matter how exhausted he was, every single night he reached out to his son's mind, asking him how he was and how his mission was progressing.

Luke's mind clung to his father's, desperate for his comfort; needing the certainty of his love to see him through the dishearteningly painful meetings. As days went by, he was becoming more and more frustrated, as the failure of the negotiations became evident. It came a point where he didn't know what to do anymore, but a part of him refused to surrender and abandon these people to their increasingly dark fate.

Anakin suggested then a different approach. To leave logic and diplomacy aside, and appeal to feelings instead. That was something everyone could relate to. Maybe it would do as a last resort.

Luke's weary mind accepted his father's advice and sent all his love and gratitude. He couldn't have him beside him, but communicating like this was the next best thing.

Anakin sent all his love back, along with the mind-suggestion to '_sleep now'_. He smiled when the mind-contact was abruptly broken, as his child instantly succumbed to his father's loving command.

As he lay in bed, ready for some sleep of his own, Anakin marvelled at the bond they shared. As far as he knew, mind-touch between Jedi was possible when in relatively close proximity. After all these years, he was well aware of the fact that the Force wasn't impeded by any limits; but Luke was hundreds of parsecs away right now, just as he had been on Ansion, and yet, they still could speak mind-to-mind. He didn't know if mind contact over such a vast distance had any precedents, but something told him this was another miracle they had made possible.

Incredibly comforted by such a nice thought, Anakin fell into a restful asleep.

Two days later, Luke contacted his father's mind to tell him the meetings were over and he was returning home. When Anakin asked him gingerly how everything had gone, he received a bittersweet feeling as an answer. There would be no immediate war, but nothing had really changed.

Anakin empathized with his child's feeling of helplessness, and tried to soothe his sentiment of failure by reminding him that these kinds of conflicts had no solution, unless both parties _really_ wanted it. It wasn't Luke's fault, because he had been the only party there who had truly worked to find an alternative.

Luke agreed with his father regretfully, and told him he couldn't wait to return home, to his family.

Anakin was looking forward to having his son back. He missed Luke dearly. He could feel his child's lifeforce through their mind-link at all times, but he craved his presence, so warm and loving beside him. There was an emptiness in his heart and soul that nothing could fill when he left.

He was right in the middle of a drill when the Falcon arrived, so he swallowed his wish to greet his child at the landing platform. His son's mind was in awful need of rest, so Anakin told him to sleep a little. He would visit him as soon as he was over with the drills.

* * *

It took three hours, but the procedures ended at last for the day. Exhausted, Anakin washed up, changed his clothes for something more informal and entered his son's quarters without knocking, for once.

Luke seemed to have barely made it to the bed. He had taken off his travel clothes and put on a white short-sleeved top and light bottoms. He had lain down on his bed diagonally and fallen asleep on the spot. The sheets were rumpled around his legs and only covered him up to his calves.

Anakin's heart ached as it had never ached before at the endearing sight. Luke was hugging the pillow to him, his face half-buried in it. He looked so much like a little boy that the older man bit his lower lip, his eyes filling with tears.

He cherished that beautiful pain in his chest. All of him was filled with something immense, ineffable, impossible to describe. Peace, joy beyond belief, tenderness, love. Oh, Force, so much love!

Carefully, he sat down on the bed and contemplated his sleeping child through misted eyes. His ruffled hair and tousled appearance made him look so much like a cub that Anakin could hardly keep himself from hugging him silly.

Reaching out without thinking, his hand stopped when it was only a few centimetres from his son's cheek though, afraid of waking him up.

Luke's reaction to his nearness was immediate. A soft smile formed on his lips, and he instinctively huddled up to his father's warmth.

Smiling back, Anakin settled his palm on the side on his child's face oh-so-gently. Contentment poured out of his son in waves, making him sigh.

'_I wish you and your sister were five years old,'_ he thought, stroking the disheveled head and burying his fingers in the shiny blond hair. _'I wish your mother was alive and sitting here with me, watching your sleep. I wish I hadn't missed your childhood and I could have been the father you deserved. I wish...'_ He sighed again, wistfully this time. _'I wish...'_

Rising slowly from the depths of slumber, Luke's consciousness became gradually aware of his father's presence, and his body stirred a little. The smile on his face grew, and he shamelessly soaked up his father's caresses. If he was too old for it, he didn't give a damn. He needed it. _Both_ of them did. They had witnessed, experienced and performed enough violence to last a million lifetimes. But _this_, it would never be enough.

Minutes passed thus, until Anakin began scratching Luke's scalp Wookie-style, making his son chuckle.

"No Chewie bearhugs too, please. I'm beat," the young man asked, unable to disguise his amusement.

"Okay," Anakin complied, shrugging casually.

Luke opened his eyes and met his father's smiling ones. He grinned back, his heart bursting with happiness. He reached up lazily and grabbed his father's hand in his own. He squeezed it, reaffirming their bond.

"How are you?" Anakin asked kindly.

Luke rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Tired, depressed, frustrated, angry, sad... Shall I go on?"

"I get the picture," Anakin shook his son's hand from side to side, affectionately. "Wanna talk about it?"

Luke let his father pull him up and he sat cross-legged on the bed. He rubbed his face briskly, trying to clear his head and gather his thoughts.

"Everything was so complex, they made it so difficult... My head was spinning!"

Anakin pursed his lips and nodded. He mirrored his child's posture, and he also sat cross-legged on the bed, facing him.

"I had to tread very carefully, watching every word I spoke, mindful of not offending either of their points of view. I've never watched my language so much, making sure I used the right terminology: nation, region, community, people, supranation, extraplanetary rights... I never had so many headaches in so short a time." He shook his head, as if still trying to get rid of all those words and concepts. "I'm just a farmer, all these things are beyond me," he complained, to one in particular.

Anakin smiled lovingly and waited for his child to continue. He was there for him, so he could share all his frustrations and use him as a sounding-board. The expression of pride on his face was unmistakable. His son would be the greatest Jedi ever. And it was his honour to guide him, nurture him and help him develop all his abilities. Could there be a more beautiful destiny?

"I have to admit that I never gave the notion of nationalisms the smallest thought. This is a galaxy, for gods' sake, we're all in this together. How can there still be peoples out there who want to become independent from their mother planet or wherever, only to join the Republic as an independent entity? You'll still belong to something bigger than you. You'll still have obligations and laws to abide by. If no one's coercing you, abusing you or repressing you; if you're all equals and depend equally on each other, what's the big damn problem?" He sighed. "I just don't get it. So at first, I was more on Uzkida's side, so to speak. I could understand them better."

Anakin nodded, wordlessly encouraging his son to continue.

"But after a time, Uzkida's stubborn refusal to give an inch began getting to me, too. If they wanted to reach an agreement, both of them would have to give a little. But soon, it became clear that the moon's nationalism had stirred a similar reaction in Uzkida's people."

"It always happens like this. That's a scenario you will face every time you have to deal with this type of situation. There is nothing new across the galaxy, Son. You'll find out soon enough," Anakin advised him.

Luke nodded sadly.

"The talks got very nasty at the end and I got caught in the middle, not knowing what to say or do. I felt I was invisible, watching them exchange threats, quoting articles from their Constitution back and forth, plain insulting each other, defiling their own history and using it against one another." He shivered at the memory. "I could smell war in that room, Father. It was..." He shook his head, his paleness saying it all.

There was a short pause, as Luke pulled himself together. Anakin patted his child's hand. He knew only too well how it was.

"That's when I asked you for help and you told me to appeal to feelings," Luke went on. "I felt I was the only one there who really wanted peace. I told them I didn't understand their desire to hurt each other, even after surviving the most devastating war this galaxy had ever known. That even after dozens of centuries of venturing out into space, they were still centred on their petty insular problems, unable to see beyond that and grasp the vastness, the beauty and diversity out there. I told them I refused to think they were ready to kill again, to bring more pain on each other. To destroy families and places they all knew. Because that's what war was about, in case they had forgotten already. It was about destroying whole families and being ready to lose their own, because once they started killing, they'd have to accept the fact that they would do to them the same thing they would be doing to the others. Did they really care that little about their loved ones? Were they really that short-sighted?"

Anakin squeezed his son's fingers, quietly conveying his total support in the approach he had taken. There had been no other choice.

"These type of conflicts do bring out the worst in peoples. I found that out on Uzkida," Luke admitted dejectedly, looking down at their joined hands, realizing all of a sudden the symbolism in that gesture. What they were doing, holding hands, was exactly what Uzkida and its moon had refused to do for far too long, and that was the end result. Impulsively, he reached out his other hand and covered his father's with his own. It was a totally irrational gesture, but he couldn't help it.

Anakin smiled, not needing the Force to know what was crossing his son's mind. He brought forth his other hand and placed it on top of theirs, completing the circle.

Luke's gaze raised from their hands to his father's face. It was extraordinary how well they understood each other. They didn't have to say a word, use the Force, anything. They were on the same wavelength all the time. In mind, heart and soul. He took a deep, shaky breath, and his chest felt so full he was momentarily dizzy. He offered a brief prayer of thanks for having this sanctuary to seek refuge from the ugliness and pettiness out there. His eyes returned to their entwined hands, drinking from the comforting sight desperately. He didn't know what would he do if he lost this. The mere notion was...

'_You will never lose me, Son, don't be afraid,'_ the softest mind-voice touched his thoughts. _'Suns will explode, planets will die, galaxies will collapse, but you will have me beside you forever. Protecting you, advising you. Taking care of you, if you'll let me.'_

Luke closed his eyes, struggling to keep the tears at bay. His father's love was stronger than anything he had ever known. It awed and humbled him. He never knew that love like this could exist and sometimes, he didn't know what to do with it. He felt unworthy, somehow. He felt... not uncomfortable, but the immensity of his father's love made him feel extremely self-conscious, and he just wanted to hide his head under the pillow, so he could blush to death in private.

It was totally illogical, but he actually believed that nothing bad could happen to him as long as this incredible man was near. So, this was how a child felt around his big daddy. This absolute feeling of security.

"Will you ever call me 'Dad' out loud, not only in your thoughts?" Anakin asked, for the umpteenth time.

Luke laughed shyly, grateful for the comment that had relieved the highly emotional moment, that was bound to be short-lived anyhow.

"Calling you 'Father' is my greatest honour. It's what I've prayed to say for as long as I can remember. Anything else is not good enough for you."

"Oh, Luke!" It was Anakin's turn to blush now. "If you had called me 'Dad' since your childhood, I'd still be 'Dad' today."

"Do you have something against 'Father'?" Luke asked in pretended outrage, with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Force, never!" Anakin exclaimed from the bottom of his heart. "But sometimes, it feels more a title than an affectionate term. As if you called your sister 'Princess' or 'Your highness.'"

"To me, 'Father' encompasses everything. I'll never get tired of saying it because all my life, it was my most cherished dream. An impossible dream that Destiny realized for me; so I will say it forever, forever, forever!" On an impulse, Luke flung his arms round his father and hugged him so hard that he almost broke his neck.

For a second, Anakin remembered his son's words about leaving chaos in his wake as a child. But it was a tiny price to pay for the privilege of having this small glimpse at the little Luke he had never known. The fact that his son felt confident enough to let his hair down around him spoke volumes, and he inwardly prayed for lots of small moments like this, never mind if he ended up with kinks in his neck for a month. Their relationship was evolving, growing, encompassing more and more levels, and to see his child feeling free to behave like a little boy, if only this once, was a victory. A victory they had won over death itself.

The older man threw his own arms round the smaller body, crushing it to his chest and thanking the Force for this moment that was worth a lifetime.

"My little one." He whispered to himself. "What did I ever do to deserve this?"

"Father."

The reverence and adoration in Luke's accent filled Anakin's skin with goosebumps.

No words, no thoughts, nothing was necessary. Only the pure feelings they were transmitting through the sheer physical contact. They clung to each other for a very long time, drinking in their closeness, knowing how much it had cost them.

"Thank you for this moment, Father," Luke choked on his words.

"No, Son, thank _you_," Anakin replied, holding him tighter.

They _couldn't_ let go, so they remained thus until they lost track of time. Anakin cradled the blond head in his hand and messed up his child's hair playfully. Luke's helpless laughter made him smile.

When they finally moved back, they looked into each other's shining eyes, unable to say a word.

"I'm so happy right now!" Luke said at last, needlessly.

"So am I," Anakin replied. "And I owe every single moment of peace and happiness in my life to you, your sister and your friends. I still can't believe that you..."

"Shhhh," Luke put out his hand and hushed his father's words. He shook his head, an infinitely loving expression crossing his features.

Anakin bit his lower lip and nodded in acquiescence. They knew, Leia knew and their friends knew. That was enough.

They took a deep, quivering breath and recovered their composure.

"So," Anakin continued with their previous conversation, his voice still a bit unsteady, "how did Uzkida and its moon take your speech?"

Luke rolled his eyes sadly.

"No one said anything at first, but it seemed to move them, if only a little. They suspended the meeting for an hour and when we returned to the Great Hall, both parties said that they could see 'the wisdom in my words'. They agreed to wait until nerves steadied, to resume their talks and give peace a chance."

"You accomplished a lot then, my son," Anakin complimented his child sincerely, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently.

"Come on, Father," Luke raised pain-filled eyes to his equally blue counterparts. "We both know I only bought them some more time, that is all."

"Maybe, maybe not," Anakin shrugged. "Only time will tell. Let's give peace a chance, as they said. Trust their goodwill; but above all, trust their fear. Fear of another war and its devastating consequences. Unfortunately, that's the only reason strong enough to prevent some peoples from killing each other."

"As long as it works and it saves one single life, that's enough for me." Luke allowed himself a tiny ray of hope.

Anakin smiled compassionately and nodded.

"That was all Jedi could do in my time, Son. We were mediators, we offered alternatives, we suggested and advised; but ultimately, it was the peoples' decision and no one else's. At some time, we could only admit defeat and leave, feeling just like you're feeling right now."

Luke sighed and looked away, accepting his father's words, but still unable to help the bitter feeling of failure.

"You tried with everything you had. No one could ask for more." Anakin squeezed the slumped shoulder once more.

Luke met his father's gaze and absorbed all the support and caring he found there.

"Are you hungry or would you rather go to sleep again?" Anakin asked out of the blue, a kind smile on his face.

"I'm a bit hungry," Luke admitted. "Is it dinner time already?"

"Just barely," Anakin replied. "I've had no dinner either. When the drills ended, I went directly to my room to wash up and change, and then I came here."

"Let's go then," Luke jumped to his feet and put on his slippers. "Things will look better on a full stomach, I hope."

Anakin stood up and followed his son out.

"How did the drills go?" Luke asked.

His father's agonizing moan was all the answer he needed before the doors closed after them.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	4. Chapter 4

Luke hardly had time to settle down after his second mission when he was summoned to the third two days later. Veltra's new government was taking over, and as a deeply religious people, they wanted a Jedi to be present at the ceremony to give them their blessing.

Relieved beyond words for not having any problems to try and solve for once, Luke was happy to go. Veltra had been viciously bombarded by the Empire two years before. The capital was almost reconstructed and this act would mark a new start for all. The symbolism in it didn't escape anyone.

Luke was packing his suitcase when there was a knock at his door.

"Come in," he called.

The door opened and Commander Vaughan Worthwing entered the young Jedi's quarters.

"Hello, Vaughan, it's good to see you!" Luke greeted him warmly, reaching out. "How are you?"

"I'm just fine, Master Skywalker. It's good to see you too," the young man respectfully replied, shaking Luke's hand and looking strangely self-conscious.

"Come on, Vaughan!" Luke burst out laughing. "How many times have we flown together? Don't let all this Jedi mystique inhibit you. I'm still the same. If you call me Master Skywalker I turn about, looking for my father."

Reassured by Luke's easygoing charm, Vaughan smiled, feeling immediately more at ease.

"I heard that you're going to Veltra to witness their new government's take-over."

"That's right," Luke confirmed to him, holding back a smile. The same old Vaughan, always straight to the point.

Taking a deep breath, Vaughan straightened up, plucking up his courage to make his request.

"I'd like to ask permission to accompany you."

Luke's eyes opened wide.

"Why?" he asked.

The young man's features twisted for a second in a searing expression of pain and guilt that was all too familiar.

"I bombarded the capital when I was allied with the Empire." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I took hundreds, thousands of innocent lives." He met Luke's eyes, torment and remorse plaguing his own. "I need to be there and beg their forgiveness. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't. If they want to judge me, I'll willingly surrender myself to their authorities."

Luke's gaze softened.

"All war criminals have been judged and convicted already, my friend. We all took innocent lives. That is what war is about. Killing, murdering, destroying. The President enacted a universal pardon for all those who repented of their crimes, and that includes us."

The fact that Luke counted himself as a war criminal moved Vaughan to his very core, and he looked away, feeling terribly unworthy. Next to that man, he was nothing.

Then, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"I will be honoured to have you accompany me. I understand your need to ask forgiveness. That gesture does you credit," Luke smiled fondly.

"Thank you," Vaughan managed to utter, holding back tears, feeling as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.

Luke just shook his head.

"Hurry up now and pack your things. We'll be leaving in two hours." He smiled playfully, the way he used to do when encouraging his squadron before going into battle.

A big smile spread across Vaughan's features.

"_Yes, sir!"_ he exclaimed, turning about and leaving Luke's quarters at the double.

* * *

Luke's mission to Veltra might have looked simple and uncomplicated, but it turned out to be emotionally devastating for all those involved.

The government's take-over was especially emotive, with the new President's heartfelt remembrance of all those who hadn't made it that day, and all those whose lives had been marked forever as a consequence of the merciless bombing.

It had been agreed beforehand that Vaughan would deliver a short speech the young man had written. With a trembling but unfaltering voice and a broken heart, Vaughan courageously read the most moving declaration Luke had ever heard. He begged forgiveness of all those he had killed, their families and friends. Then, in a totally spontaneous gesture, he faced the survivors present in the Chamber and Veltra's government, and offered them his very life to do with as they pleased.

The young Jedi could hardly hold back the tears when Veltra's President stood up, turned to Vaughan and enfolded him in his arms, in an embrace that truly embodied the forgiveness that would be the basis for all of them to begin their healing. Together.

The deeply felt ovation that accompanied the embrace was interrupted by Anakin's sudden irruption in the Chamber.

Luke stared at his father open-mouthed, unable to believe his eyes. Anakin had said goodbye to him on the landing platform and wished him luck, as was becoming their custom. His presence there was completely unexpected.

Dressed in a combination of Jedi robes and Vice-Presidential clothes, that clearly indicated he was representing both sides of himself, Anakin walked up to the stand where Vaughan, Luke and Veltra's government stood. He placed his hand on Vaughan's shoulder meaningfully and with a respectful bow of his head, he addressed the Chamber. The whispers and soft exclamations of astonishment slowly died down.

"Mr. President, members of the Government, gentlebeings," he began. "I apologize for my abrupt appearance here today." He briefly met Luke's eyes, and the young man immediately realized his father was trying to summon up his courage to go on. Not having the slightest idea what Anakin was up to, Luke sent all his love and support. Anakin's eyes softened and he faced the audience that looked at him, still in shock. "When I was informed of Commander Worthwing's intentions, I knew I could do no less, for my crimes against this galaxy are countless." He swallowed hard, took a deep breath and continued. "This ceremony is a homage to your courage, a testimony to your integrity and your capacity to move on, despite everything the Empire subjected you to." He straightened up and his bright blue eyes encompassed them all. "As the former Commander of the Imperial Fleet, I am responsible for every life that was taken here that fateful day. I am responsible for every orphan, widowed and maimed citizen of Veltra's capital." His eyes reddened helplessly, but Anakin firmly held his emotions in check. "I cannot bring back the dead. I can't take your pain away. Nothing I can possibly say or do will ever erase the massive damage and destruction myself and the Empire caused you." He bit his lower lip and reached out to every single being in that chamber with everything he was, and everything he had. "I can only beg your forgiveness and hope that you allow me to try and make up for all the atrocites I committed. I promise, on my honour as a Jedi and father of my children, that I will serve you, and every being in this galaxy, with my very life; and I will be ready to give it up for any of you, with no hesitation, anytime, anywhere and anyhow."

With another respectful bow of his head, Anakin stepped back, his hands crossed in front of him, suddenly looking so singled out and isolated that Luke could hardly restrain himself from walking up to his father and wrapping him in his arms.

The young Jedi's every pore could feel his father's infinite repentance, and he prayed with all his heart for Veltra's people to feel it, too, because Anakin's future depended on how Veltrans took his appearance here today, on this his first venture off Coruscant. If they rejected him, his days as Vice-President of the New Republic would be numbered. Even more, his father's chances of redeeming himself would be thwarted before even starting.

There was so much at stake all at once, that Luke felt momentarily light-headed with fear and trepidation. He fixed his eyes on his father, sending him all his positive thoughts and all his hope. There was nothing else he could do. His love was all he had to give.

And something in the soft tremor that shook Anakin from head to foot, told him he had felt it all.

Luke fleetingly wondered if there would ever come a time when he wouldn't admire his father more and more with each passing day. He strongly doubted it.

The silence stretched for seemingly endless moments, and Luke felt like screaming. But then, somewhere in the back corner of the Chamber, someone began applauding, almost timidly. And that seemed to be the cue for people to shake themselves out of their stupor. Seconds later, the Chamber was shaking with the thunderous applause that truly marked the beginning of the former Darth Vader's redemption.

Anakin couldn't believe it. He watched the people he had ordered to be massacred two years ago rising to their feet and giving him a standing ovation, absolving him of his heinous crimes. He didn't know what kept him from collapsing, but if only to honour that miraculous display of forgiveness, he _would_ stand, for as long as it took. He paid no attention to the tears that streamed silently down his cheeks that made Veltra's people redouble their efforts.

Veltra's President approached Anakin and reached out his hand. Anakin took it in his own and the President shook it between both of his, emotion evident on his face. They bowed to each other respectfully and turned to their audience, still holding hands.

Luke looked down, losing the battle with his own tears. There was hope for them all. Blessed the Force, there was hope!

* * *

Veltra's capital was one of the most beautiful cities Luke had ever seen. Most of it was brand new and whoever their architects were, they had impeccable taste. Tall buildings blended with gardens beautifully. There were wide sidewalks and open spaces everywhere, and still, they had found a way for vehicles to pass unhindered. Everything was full of light and exuded peace and calm, despite the hundreds of people walking up and down the quite busy streets.

Veltra's President had insisted on accompanying them for a brief tour of the most relevant parts of the city, to show them what they had accomplished and how proud they were of their achievements.

Luke and Anakin didn't stint their heartfelt praises for Veltra's citizens and Government. It was indeed an effort to be proud of, that said it all about Veltrans as a people.

Walking a few steps behind them, Han, Chewie, Lando and Vaughan also admired the city. Scattered here and there, droids controlled the traffic, tended the bushes, trees and lawns, and advertised sales and shows taking place in the capital's theatres.

The happy group ventured into one of the most important parks of the city. It was divided in green areas for children to play with their toys safely, and a central recreation area full of slides, swings and other simple gear for children to enjoy themselves.

It was a bright and sunny day and the park was packed with families that had taken their little ones to have a good time there.

Anakin watched poignantly the children playing there surrounded by their parents, envying the grown-ups their chance of playing with their children, taking care of them, seeing them grow, safe and certain of the love of their parents.

He couldn't go any further with his thoughts, because a coloured ball hit him squarely on the head. It didn't hurt him because it was very light, the kind of ball for a small child to play with. He bent down and picked it up as hurried footsteps approached him. A little girl who couldn't be more than six years old ran up to him. She had dark brown hair tied up in a ponytail, and almost black eyes. Anakin's heart ached, because he couldn't help but picture Leia at that age.

"I'm sorry I hit you, sir," the little girl said, looking very contrite and blushing to the roots of her hair.

"It's all right," Anakin shook his head with a smile. He squatted down and gave her back the ball, studying her fondly. She took it in her tiny hands and blinked, puzzled by his close scrutiny.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, her blushing deepening even more.

"Because you remind me a lot of my own daughter," Anakin replied, unable to prevent a hint of sadness in his voice. "She's got brown hair and dark eyes, just like you."

The little girl seemed to pick up the undercurrents of sadness and regret in his accent.

"And why are you so sad? Is she dead like my brother? He died in the bombings two years ago, you know?" her voice started fading away from the mention of her brother, as if she was used to talking very quietly about certain subjects.

The searing pain in his chest made Anakin close his eyes and take a deep breath through his nose. It was unbearable. Being face to face with the consequences of the evil he had done. He couldn't stand it. But he had to. If he had been capable of ordering the deaths of so many people, he had to be capable of facing the aftermath of his actions.

It was obscene, listening to a little girl talk about bombings and death and a suffering so deep. And yet, he had brought this to her. Him!

"What's your name?" he suddenly found himself asking.

"Kara," the child answered shyly, looking down.

Anakin placed a finger under her chin and softly forced her to meet his eyes. The eyes of her brother's murderer.

"No, Kara. My daughter is not dead, but I couldn't be with her when she was a little girl like you. I missed all the years she was a child. And my son's, too." His eyes began misting.

"Why? Where were you?" The little girl seemed a bit confused by Anakin's words. In her mind, parents and children belonged together. The notion that a child could grow up apart from their parents was too scary to contemplate.

Anakin looked away, trying to find a way to explain the inexplicable.

"I was allied with the Empire, ordering the destruction of this city," he finally managed to utter, braving the innocent gaze that silently accused him with its purity.

Kara stiffened, as the implications of Anakin's words became clear to her.

"You... You _did it_?" She paled visibly and moved back a step.

Anakin nodded, fighting the impulse to take off running and not to stop until he collapsed under the weight of his crimes.

"Why?"

There it was. The question that no one could answer. Anakin least of all. But how to explain that to a child who had only known death and loss since so early an age, because of him? Besides, what was there to explain? His actions spoke for themselves.

"Because I was evil," he choked on his words, unable to hold on any more. But then, an unmistakable hand settled on his shoulder and squeezed it, conveying so much love and fervent support he disgusted himself. He couldn't deserve the touch of his son's hand. The hand he had severed.

Yet, something inside him clung desperately to the love and absolution that touch offered. He reached up and grasped the bionic hand on his shoulder, interlacing his fingers with it.

The little girl watched the two men's wordless exchange, soaking up the love they exuded.

"He's your son," she stated, seeing it with her heart more than with her eyes.

Luke smiled down at her tenderly and nodded, too moved to speak.

Kara studied Anakin's features. She was in front of the man responsible for her brother's death, responsible for her family's pain and the pain of her neighbours. Feelings too powerful and complex for her to understand, twirled inside her in a rising tide. But on looking into Anakin's infinitely sad and tormented eyes, she couldn't find it in her to hate him or get angry at him. She didn't know why. She tried to dig deeper, struggling to understand...

"You're not evil anymore. You're very sorry you did it," she said, reading Anakin like an open book.

Anakin let out an agonizing sound, looking away again, unable to bear the intensity of those sweet, warm eyes that regarded him with no trace of malice or hatred, even after knowing he was responsible for something that no one would ever be able to heal. And he prayed for those beautiful eyes to never be touched by those ugly feelings, because that would mean that their innocence would be gone for good.

He was taken completely off guard when a pair of little arms wrapped themselves around his neck and soft lips kissed his cheek. Gasping, he held on to the tiny body and looked into the child's eyes when she moved back and met his gaze, a puzzled expression on her face. She seemed as surprised as Anakin by what she had just done.

"Why did you do it?" Anakin asked her.

The little girl shrugged.

"You looked like you needed it," she simply said, a hopeful smile appearing on her face for the first time.

Anakin closed his eyes, totally at a loss to understand why Fates were being so lenient with him. He reached out and cupped the lovely face in his quivering palm, speechless.

Out of all those present, only Vaughan could understand what Anakin was going through, what he was feeling and how terribly hard it was. So hard that he had attempted to take his own life, desperate to find merciful oblivion in death, before living one more day with the burden of being alive when so many were dead because of him.

In an eerie way, he felt as if that child was absolving him too with that kiss, proving to him that real forgiveness was truly possible. But what he was seeing in Anakin's eyes was too familiar, it hit too close for the young man to bear. He had to look away.

Vaughan looked up at the bright blue sky and took a deep breath, filling his lungs with much needed air. It was clean and fresh. He let the sunshine fall on his face and warm his chilled body. His eyes then roamed the streets surrounding them, drinking in the life unfolding around them.

He took in the vehicles speeding past the park; the pedestrians walking up and down the streets, minding their own business or engaged in animated conversations; the children playing on the lawns and in the recreation areas, closely watched by their elders; the traffic and gardener droids abandoning their posts and approaching the park...

Something in the droids' suddenly coordinated movements made Vaughan prick up his ears. It made no sense, and it was a dangerous move in the traffic droids' case, because on leaving their duties unattended, speeders could crash into each other in intersections.

The young man looked around him, realizing the droids had created a perimeter around the area of the park where they were. In unison, they opened a hatch on their bellies and drew out... _blasters_?

"LOOK OUT!" He cried out instinctively. "Get down!" he ordered without thinking, drawing out his own blaster.

And then, hell broke loose.

Blaster fire filled the park in a millisecond, before most people had time to react.

Reacting like a well-oiled machine, Anakin and Luke threw themselves to the ground, Anakin covering Kara with his own body. Han, Lando and Chewie responded like perfect bodyguards and covered Veltra's President and his small entourage, while drawing out their own blasters and beginning to repel the surprise attack.

'_The civilians!'_ Anakin thought desperately. The civilians were always the first to die, because they were untrained in situations like this. It was paramount to protect all the children and their families who had come down to that park to have a good time with each other, and were totally helpless to defend themselves now.

Knowing that the specially equipped team that Mon Mothma had assigned to protect them had to be only a few seconds away, but maybe a few seconds too late to help them, the older Jedi began crying out orders.

"Han, Lando, Chewie! Take the President to safety! We'll hang on in here!"

"No way, your Excellency!" Han immediately shot back, pushing the President and his entourage to a nearby tree. "There'd be only the two of you!"

"The President's safety comes first. Do it!" Luke joined in, drawing out his lightsaber and beginning to deflect the fire.

"Don't you know me by now, kid?" Han yelled above the deafening sound. "Besides, the moment we leave here, we'll be sitting ducks," he grumbled.

Just then, a dozen heavily armed guards arrived, and created a wider perimeter around those ambushed.

"The cavalry!" Lando announced, blowing up a droid directly in front of them. "How timely!"

"For once. So, what do you say?" Han asked him.

"I say we hand over the President and his people to them and go help those two heroes," Lando yelled, nodding in Luke and Anakin's direction.

"My thoughts exactly, buddy," Han replied, blowing up another droid. He took cover behind the tree trunk when a blaster shot missed his nose by five centimetres.

Anakin couldn't draw out his lightsaber because Kara was lying on it. The child was paralysed by fear, trembling under him.

"Don't move and hold on to me, Kara, all right?" Anakin whispered to her.

The little girl nodded and her little hands grabbed his robe, clinging to it for dear life.

Anakin looked up and absorbed everything that was happening at a glance. Luke stood beside him, deflecting blaster bolts like a maniac, and at the same time barking orders at the security team.

"Protect the civilians in the park!" he cried out. "Get them out of here! We'll manage!"

Freer now that half a dozen guards were taking Veltra's President and his entourage to a building close by, Lando, Han and Chewie concentrated their efforts on covering Luke and Anakin. The fact that the droids paid no attention whatsoever to the team protecting the President, made it obvious _they_ were their intended target. Han communicated his intentions to Chewie and Lando with just a look, and the three of them continued blowing up droids from different angles. The more they blasted the more there seemed to be.

"We've got to get to them!" Lando yelled, frustration evident in his voice. "They're in the open!"

"Any suggestions?" Han asked.

"Got any hand-grenades, by any chance?"

"Bad luck!" Han retorted.

"Typical!" Lando muttered, blowing up yet another droid.

Anakin and Luke had already surmised that the droids were after them, not after Veltra's President or the civilian population. The security team had split up and most of them were evacuating all the men, women and children from the park, careful of the crossfire. The rest had stayed, protecting the Peace party.

"We've got to get out of here, Father. I won't be able to hold them off much longer," Luke warned Anakin, deflecting the relentless fire with increasing difficulty.

Anakin cursed his inability to back up his son. But he didn't dare to stand up, because that would leave Kara unprotected.

"Help your son, help your son!" a terrified and muffled voice reached his ears amongst the deafening noise.

Anakin met Kara's eyes. The child was clinging to him for all she was worth, but in her frightened dark eyes, he saw a fierce resolution rising.

"Help him. Help him!" the little girl ordered. For a second, she looked older than her years. And her courage infused Anakin's heart with a savage determination.

"All right, Kara. But you've got to help me with it. We have to do this together. At the count of three, okay?" He tried to sound casual, knowing it would calm her fear, if only a little bit. "You hold on to me when we stand up. My son and I will protect you."

The child nodded, looking deep into his eyes one last and intense moment.

Anakin closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

'_Luke,'_ he called through the Force.

'_Yes?'_ Luke's reply was immediate.

'_Let me be your partner now?'_ Anakin asked meaningfully, knowing his son would understand.

'_Always and forever,'_ came the exultant answer.

With his soul bursting with all the love he had inside, Anakin turned now to the child in his arms.

"All right, little lady. One... Two... Three!" he cried out.

The two stood up at once, as if they had choreographed that movement for years. Instantly, Luke and Anakin met back to back, keeping the child safely sandwiched between them.

Unhindered now, Anakin's lightsaber flew up to his hand, igniting halfway.

'_Try to deflect the bolts back to the source. That way, we'll use their shots against them,'_ Anakin instructed.

'_Yes, Master,'_ came Luke's reply, full of love and admiration for his father's quick and clever thinking.

It took a while until they sharpened their aim, but soon enough, more and more droids fell to the ground, disabled.

When it seemed they were turning the tables in their favour, the unexpected happened. A woman began crying out, escaped the guard who was dragging her along, and took off running towards them recklessly. At first, no one could make out what she was saying, until she was close enough for her screaming to be heard above the mayhem.

"Kara! No! Kara!"

The little girl put out her head between Luke and Anakin's bodies and saw her mother running toward them. The woman was a perfect target for any deflected bolt to hit her or be caught in the crossfire.

"Mommy! Mommy!" Kara cried out, beginning to squirm, trying to free herself.

"No, Kara! Don't move!" Anakin yelled, pressing himself back against her, trapping her small body between his and Luke's even harder. He felt his son pressing back, too.

But somehow, Kara slipped from their joint pressure and set off running toward her mother.

Without stopping to think, Anakin hurled himself at her and brought them both to the ground as he felt a burning, searing pain in the back of his right shoulder. Grinding his teeth against the pain, he saw in abject horror how the screaming woman got hit too and collapsed like a puppet when they cut its strings.

"MOMMY! MOMMY!" Kara cried out, fighting Anakin with all the strength her tiny body could muster.

In the midst of the child's endless screaming, Anakin suddenly noticed everything was silent around them. With his heart hammering against his ribs, he dared to look up. The remaining droids had stopped firing and they stood frozen, with their arms hanging at their sides and their blasters on the ground beside them.

Tentatively, everybody abandoned their cover behind tree trunks and bushes. Luke reached out to his dizzy father. The young man was shaking now that everything was over, and the hole on his father's back only rattled him more. He squeezed Anakin's arm, as the shock of what had just happened, settled in.

Anakin rose to his feet slowly, holding Kara in his arms despite the pain. The child was almost catatonic now, her eyes fixed on her mother's fallen body twenty metres away.

Han, Chewie and Lando surrounded their friends and the little girl, squeezing each other's arms and shoulders, reassuring themselves of their unharmed state.

"You okay, kid?" Han asked Luke, grabbing his friends's forearm.

Luke was deathly pale, but otherwise whole. He nodded.

"Anakin?" The Corellian made a grimace at the nasty wound on the back of the Jedi's shoulder.

Anakin looked at him and nodded sharply. The pain was more than evident on his face. But it wasn't only physical pain. He couldn't stop looking at Kara's mother, lying face down on the ground.

This attack had been against them. Maybe even against him alone. If he hadn't been here today, this family wouldn't have lost another member because of him. His body started trembling in shock.

Then, Kara began chanting. A soft murmur, devoid of any hope and full of infinite anguish.

"Mommy. Mommy. Mommymommymommy..." her despaired moaning was more than Anakin could bear.

"Don't cry, Kara. Your mommy's all right," a young voice reassured them all.

Everybody turned and saw Vaughan walking up to them, with a blaster in his right hand and some sort of device in the left.

"Vaughan!" Luke exclaimed, without relinquishing his hold on his father's arm. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Vaughan shrugged apologetically.

"When I saw her running up to you, I knew she was an easy target, so I did the only thing I could think of," he brought up his right hand, "I shot her myself in the leg to bring her down and move her out of the crossfire. She must be unconscious."

A stunned silence fell on them all, as they digested Vaughan's words. Then, as one, the group hurried to the woman's side. Luke kneeled down beside her and touched her temples with one hand. A second later, he sighed out loud and turned to his friends with a vastly relieved smile on his face.

"She's alive," he announced.

Anakin fell to his knees by the woman's body, and softly put Kara down. The little girl took her mother's hand.

"Mommy? Mommy!" She shook the unresponsive hand.

"Let me," Anakin smiled down at her. After Han and Lando softly turned the child's mother on her back, he reached out and placed his palm on the woman's forehead. A few seconds later, she began to stir.

Anakin withdrew his hand and allowed the woman to come round on her own, which she promptly did. She looked up at all the people bending over her and a dazed expression crossed her features.

"Mommy!" Kara cried out, throwing herself at her mother and wrapping her arms around her neck.

The woman's arms returned the embrace instinctively, until her memory returned and she remembered what had happened a few minutes before.

"Kara! Oh, my goodness, Kara!" Tears streamed down her face, as she crushed the tiny body to her.

No one said anything and they looked away respectfully, not wanting to intrude on the private moment between mother and daughter. When the two calmed down just enough to let go a little and verify they were alive, the woman let out a moan of pain, reaching down to her left calf. Her hand came up stained with dried blood.

"I'm sorry I had to shoot you," Vaughan apologized, offering the woman a handkerchief he carried in a pocket. "But you could have easily been killed by the crossfire or any deflected blaster bolt."

The woman was trembling, shaken by the whole experience, but she managed to remain calm. She took the proffered hanky and applied it to the wound.

"You did right," she excused the young man. She looked up at him and smiled tremulously. "It was a stupid thing to do. I put Kara in danger. She was safer with you." Her eyes shifted from Vaughan to Luke and Anakin. "If she had..."

"It's all right." Anakin placed his hand on the woman's wrist, not wanting her to wallow in the guilt he knew she was feeling. "I am a parent too, and as far as our children's safety is concerned, we just can't think rationally."

The woman smiled sadly, understanding Anakin only too well.

Noises began filling the air, as Veltra's security forces and sanitary services arrived and took charge of the situation.

Kara's mother held Anakin's hand first and Luke's second.

"Thank you for saving my daughter. I will never be able to..." she choked on her words. "I can't..." she tried again, losing the battle with her tears.

Kara clung to her mother's neck, crying softly, and the woman hugged her child to her, helpless to express her gratitude.

"_This_ is our reward. _This_ is all we need," Luke answered for all of them, stroking the top of the child's head affectionately, looking deep into the mother's eyes.

The woman closed her eyes and nodded, seeing the truth in the young Jedi's sweet blue eyes.

A couple orderlies arrived out of nowhere, placed the woman and the child clinging to her on a floating stretcher, and took them away.

The terribly moved group watched as the two women disappeared from their sight. Then, shaken to the core, they turned to each other unable to say a word, still trying to grasp everything that had transpired.

"W-what happened? Why did they stop firing at us?" Lando asked at last in a trembling voice, looking at the inexplicably immobilized droids.

Vaughan brought up the device he still carried in his left hand.

"What's that?" Han asked.

"A jamming device," Vaughan explained. "When I saw the amount of droids attacking us, I knew we couldn't possibly destroy them all. Then, I remembered that Veltra's Defense Department was only two blocks away. So I hurried there and asked for a jamming device." He nodded in the droids' direction. "I simply discharged their batteries," he smiled impishly.

The silence stretched for so long that Vaughan looked at his friends, in confusion. They were staring at him as if he had just grown another head.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Do your parents still live?" Anakin finally asked.

"Yes. Why?" Vaughan's eyebrows arched, in puzzlement.

"Because if they didn't, I'd adopt you."

Anakin's extravagant praise shook everybody out of their collective stupor, and they burst out laughing in sheer relief, patting Vaughan's back and congratulating him riotously.

* * *

Luke walked down the main corridor of the medical centre where all the wounded people in the ambush on the park had been taken a few hours ago. Considering the massacre it could have turned out to be, the actual number of casualties was a true miracle. Three dead – one of the members of their security team and two citizens of Veltra, husband and wife, who left two orphan children – and 36 wounded, 6 of them in critical condition.

The young man had been battling his instinct of healing them all. But he knew only too well that as soon as his healing gift was discovered, his life would change for good. With so many billions of beings sick and suffering all over the galaxy, he'd spend his existence going from one planet to the next, healing; which added to his duties as a Jedi, Captain of the Fleet and member of the Government... no being could lead such a life. Still, he felt torn, because should any of the wounded die, he'd feel horribly guilty.

He needed some answers, he needed guidance.

He needed his father.

Walking past the busy doctors and nurses, the young man entered his father's room. It was empty.

"Excuse me, sir" a robot-nurse told him when she saw him walking out of the room with a perplexed expression on his face. "Are you looking for the man occupying that room?"

"Yes, I am," Luke nodded.

"He's visiting the woman they brought here first and her daughter. They're one floor up, room 515."

"Thank you," Luke smiled kindly, berating himself for his stupidity. He could have followed his mind-link with his father in the first place. It was a testimony to his current state of mind that he had totally forgotten about it.

With a sigh, Luke climbed up the stairs leading to the next floor. The medical centre looked brand new, as did most of the city, and it was as homey and comfortable as such a place could be. It showed everyone involved had taken the utmost care to make it look like a place where people came to be healed and get better.

He was so lost in his musings that his feet surprised him when they stopped walking right in front of door 515.

Luke buzzed softly for entrance and the door immediately opened. The sight that greeted his eyes was so heart-warming that the young man couldn't help but smile. Kara's mother was holding his father's hand between both of hers in a gesture that said it all. Both of them looked so moved that Luke had to look away. He could guess what had happened there, and his heart swelled in his chest with joy.

"Luke! Hello, Luke!" A child's voice greeted him, and a blur dashed for him.

Opening his arms automatically, Luke let out an exclamation when Kara jumped at him and flung her arms around his neck, hugging him enthusiastically.

"Ouch! Hello, Kara!" he greeted back happily. "It's good to see you again."

The little girl pecked his cheek with a giggle and Luke pretended to blush as he approached the bed.

"Good evening, ma'am," he politely greeted the woman in it.

"Rayka, please," Kara's mother told him with a sweet smile, wiping away a tear furtively.

"Rayka," Luke smiled back, stopping next to his father's chair by the bed. "How're you feeling?"

"As good as new," the woman replied cheerfully. "My calf hurt like hell at first, but with the painkillers I don't feel a thing right now. That young man shot me in the place where he was likely to cause least damage to my leg. Doctors say I'll heal soon."

"Vaughan's one of the best shooters I've ever met, and he can remain calm in almost any situation. Bless the Force for his quick thinking." Luke felt all of them were in Vaughan's debt after what he had pulled today.

"Indeed," Rayka nodded earnestly. "He was here an hour ago, apologizing again for shooting me. I told him I'd rather limp for the rest of my life than miss a second of my daughter's life." She looked at Anakin and smiled meaningfully.

Anakin smiled back, a bit shaken. Rayka reached out and squeezed the Jedi's hand again.

"Did your father really cut off your hand?" Kara asked Luke out of the blue.

"Kara!" Her mother chastised her daughter, shocked at the child's question.

"It's all right," Luke said calmly, looking not in the least upset by the little girl's bluntness. He put Kara on the floor and kneeled down in front of her, at eye-level. "Yes, he did," he just admitted, looking deep into the girl's eyes. "He was lost then. And angry. He lived in a black, dark tunnel, and he didn't know how to get out. He didn't even know _there was_ a way out."

"And you're not angry with him for what he did to you?" Kara asked innocently, her eyes shining with unusual intensity.

"I was, for some time," Luke confessed. "I didn't understand how could a father want to hurt his child, no matter how angry and full of hatred he was." He closed his eyes momentarily, remembering that time of madness and pain. "But then, I realized there was a way to help him and help myself out of that dead end."

"What way?" Kara's eyes opened wide in anticipation.

Luke smiled softly. "Love. I only had to love him with all my heart. Love him so much and so hard that he had no choice but love me back." Luke's misted eyes turned to his father, who looked at him biting his lips, tears beginning to roll down his face. He met Kara's eyes again, grinning in delight. "And it turned out he already loved me, he always had. But he had buried that love so deep inside him that he had forgotten it was there." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "We helped each other, and we found out love is the only answer. Love and forgiveness are the most powerful forces in the Universe. They give true peace to the soul." He reached out and framed his father's cheek in his hand, wiping the tears away.

Anakin could only smile weakly at his child, speechless, snuggling his cheek up to the warm palm. Praying that his son could see his heart full of love, and understand what he couldn't verbalize.

And Luke smiled back, tilting his head to one side endearingly.

Unnoticed by the two men, Rayka nodded to herself and reached out to her daughter, who promptly climbed the bed and cuddled up against her.

"And sometimes, some of us only need to hear the right words to open our hearts and let go of our hatred as well," she muttered out loud, her fingers combing through her daughter's hair, in a soothing motion. "It's easier when there is peace inside; there's no greater truth." Her hand halted her rhythmic movements and reached out to Luke.

The young Jedi held it in his own and rose to his feet. Anakin stood up, too.

"Thank you, for everything. I..." Rayka was beyond words.

Luke placed his other hand on top of Rayka's reassuringly, and then blinked, looking down at her body. He made a weird face.

"What is it?" Rayka asked, curiously.

"C-could you... could you please lie down?" he asked, rubbing his forehead with his fingertips, trying to clear his thoughts and reach out with his feelings, as he had been taught.

"Sure," Rayka obeyed.

Luke grabbed the bedcovers.

"May I?" he asked.

The woman nodded, and Luke pulled back the sheets. Then, he put out his hands, palms down, and began moving them up and down, a few centimetres above her body, as if scanning it. They stopped right above her stomach.

"Have you... Have you felt anything strange about your stomach lately?" he asked.

"Well, now that you mention it..." Rayka's eyebrows skyrocketed. "I feel as if my digestions took longer than they used to, and my stomach feels like... as if it burned sometimes, and I feel slightly nauseous every time I eat spicy foods. I guess it's just acidity. Why?"

"Excuse me." Luke placed his palms on the woman's stomach then, and a small shudder ran up and down his body. He closed his eyes and concentrated.

Rayka frowned when a strange tingling sensation began in the pit of her stomach and spread all over her abdomen. A few seconds later, she smiled, feeling vaguely euphoric, not knowing why.

"W-what are you doing?"

Luke's eyes opened, a bit unfocused, but he blinked a couple times and the spark returned to them.

"Should you feel that acidity returning, give me a call," he cracked, imitating the voice of a broadcaster well-known across the galaxy.

They burst out laughing.

"Whatever you did, thank you," Rayka sat up and reached down to scratch her wounded calf. "Damn, it's itching now," she commented.

Luke looked up at his father and Anakin shrugged, the twinkle in his eyes more than evident. Smiling back at him, the young man sat down on the bed and pointed at Rayka's leg.

"May I again?"

"Of course," the woman nodded, expecting him to put his hands on her leg and make the itching stop. That's why it puzzled her when he began untying the bandages, until he exposed the wound. It never crossed her mind to stop him, and she wondered offhand at her total trust in him. He placed his palms under her calf and closed his eyes again. The warm tingling didn't take her by surprise this time.

As before, a few seconds later, he opened his eyes and moved his hands away.

There was no trace of the wound. None whatsoever.

Rayka and Kara looked at the healed leg, unable to believe what they were seeing. Finally, Rayka's eyes looked up into Luke's.

"I-I—I..." she couldn't go on; she was too overwhelmed for words.

Luke smiled and shook his head.

"You healed mommy!" Kara exclaimed at last, exploding with joy and throwing her arms around Luke's neck in a crushing hug. "Thank you, thank you!" She kissed his cheek time and again.

"It's all right, Kara. It's all right," Luke laughed, hugging the child back. When they separated, he looked into the girl's eyes. "I have a favour to ask you now," he dropped his voice, as if he was about to tell them a big secret.

"What favour?" Kara asked, dropping her voice instinctively, too.

"Please, don't tell anyone about this," he got serious.

"Why?" the child asked, her eyes opening like two saucers.

"Because if people knew, his life would be a mess, Kara," Rayka explained to her daughter, immediately understanding Luke's reasons. She began bandaging her healed calf, hiding the evidence of Luke's powers. "The media would know, and they'd go after him, and he wouldn't be able to go on healing people and living a normal life. Besides," she met Luke's eyes with a smile full of admiration and respect, "he'd rather keep this a secret, so people won't feel in his debt. He's _that_ generous."

Luke blushed to the roots of his hair and looked down.

"Do well and dread no shame?" Kara summed it up perfectly.

"That's right, baby," Rayka hugged her daughter and kissed the top of her head.

"Okay, I won't tell," the child promised. "I hope I can keep my mouth shut. Sometimes, I get so excited that I can't help it, you know?" She looked down, feeling very self-conscious.

Luke laughed softly.

"I know how it is," he confessed. "When I was even shorter than I am now, I had the same problem." He bent down and kissed the little girl's forehead. "Take care, brave Kara. And take care of your mommy, too."

"I will," she promised him, her sweet face lighting up.

The young man reached out his hand to Rayka, who took it between both of hers and squeezed it.

"Thank you, so much," she said, her voice betraying her emotion.

"You're welcome. Any time," Luke smiled and winked at her casually, letting go with a parting squeeze.

Anakin took Rayka's hand in his and held it intensely, his mind reliving their devastating conversation of a few minutes before. He had been terrified, but he _owed_ it to her. He owed it to every single being in the galaxy whose life had been affected by his decisions, or decided firsthand by his crimes. It hadbeen unbearable, and ultimately, the most beautiful lesson in forgiveness and compassion. For both.

Rayka's eyes met his and Anakin felt blessed by their selfless gift of absolution and peace. His eyes filled again.

"You've got an angel," she whispered to him, looking at Luke, who was heading for the door, giving them the privacy they needed to say goodbye to each other properly.

Anakin looked at his son's retreating back, and all of him seemed to illuminate from within as he looked back at Rayka.

"He _is_ an angel. My guardian angel. So much like his mother." A shadow of infinite sadness and pain crossed his features.

A warm hand on his shoulder brought him out of his memories.

"And his father, too. A fallen angel redeemed by the love of his son." Rayka felt a lump forming in her throat.

Anakin let out a strangled sound, too moved to say anything that could convey all the feelings choking him.

But sometimes, there was no need for words. Sometimes, the eyes said it all; as just now.

Nodding to each other one last time, Anakin shifted his gaze to Kara and with a smile, he bent down and kissed the top of her head. Kara flung her arms around his torso and buried her face in his chest, hugging him as completely as only a child could. Anakin returned the embrace tenfold, immediately thinking about Leia and daring to make a wish. When they let go, he found the presence of mind to speak.

"Bless you."

And then, he rushed to join his son and the two left, after looking back one final time by the doorway.

* * *

The walk back to Anakin's room was made in silence, occasionally broken by soft, meaningful touches when their arms brushed against each other as they walked.

When they reached Anakin's door, the older Jedi turned to his son with a soft, knowing smile on his face.

"It wasn't 'acidity', was it?" he stated more than asked.

Luke got serious and shook his head, unable to help a sigh of relief.

"No," he said simply.

Anakin squeezed Luke's upper arm, unthinkably relieved, too, and without saying another word, they entered the room. The big man flopped down on his bed, emotionally exhausted.

Luke sat down beside him, lost in thought.

"Any news by now?" Anakin's voice was clipped.

"Han, Lando and Chewie are due to pick us up in an hour or so," Luke informed his father. "When I left them, they were contacting the President and the emergency cabinet, and giving them a brief account of what happened." He took a deep breath and continued. "Veltra's Security Forces have got to finish their investigation on the site, and prepare a preliminary report we can take with us. Mon Mothma thinks we have to take immediate action and we need to gather all possible data first."

"In that case, there's no time to lose." Anakin jumped to his feet and took off his robe. He opened the small closet by the bed and took out his already clean clothes.

Luke winced at the sight of the dressing covering the wound on his father's back. The blaster bolt had hit the back of his shoulder at such an angle that it had caused severe damage and tearing of the flesh.

But Anakin seemed totally oblivious to it. He had withdrawn into himself, obviously brooding. His agitated state of mind swept Luke away like a wild sea.

"Father."

His accent was enough to bring Anakin out of his gloomy mood. He turned to his child, his top in hand.

"Come here." Luke patted the bed and smiled his special smile, the one he reserved for his father only.

Drawn to the peace and warmth of his child's aura like a moth to a flame, Anakin complied and sat down on the bed next to his son.

Luke moved up behind his father and placed his hands on his back, very gently. His fingers began to undress the wound.

"What are you doing?" Anakin asked, perplexed.

"What do you think I'm doing?" Luke asked back, in amusement. He couldn't believe his father had forgotten about his healing gift. That in itself said it all about Anakin's frame of mind.

"Oh!" Anakin remembered then.

Shaking his head fondly, Luke couldn't help a grimace at the extent of the damage. Not knowing why, his eyes filled with tears. His father had been ready to die for that little girl. That notion both scared him to death and made him feel terribly proud.

He covered the wound with his palms and focused all his love on the torn tissues and burned flesh. He smiled to himself when he felt his father squirming a little.

"It's true. It tingles," Anakin commented, a smile in his voice, too.

"That's good to know," Luke replied. "That means I must be doing it right."

"You do everything right, Son," Anakin leaned back against his child's strength. His agitation vanished as if by magic.

"Careful, or it'll go to my head," Luke joked. But without looking, his father could feel him blushing.

"You're a big head already," Anakin pursued the joke.

"You want me to heal you, don't you?" the young man mock-threatened.

Anakin burst out laughing, delighted at their exchange.

"Yes, I do," he admitted.

"All right, there we go," Luke announced, moving his hands away. "As good as new!" And on impulse, he bent forward and kissed the healed area.

The gesture was so unexpected that Anakin froze for a second. Then, he turned about and looked at his son, who looked at him with the happiest expression on his face. The same expression that had lit up Anakin's.

"Your grandmother used to do that for me when I was a child," he said, a dreamy quality in his voice.

"Aunt Beru did it for me, too," Luke smiled merrily.

Anakin reached out and messed up the blond hair thoroughly.

"We're a pair of hopeless saps," he commented, triggering their laughter at the slang word.

Luke tried to comb through his hair with his fingers and then handed his father's top to him.

As Anakin put on his top and his boots, Luke remained silent, studying his own boots, feeling the heavy mantle of his responsibilities falling on his shoulders again.

"And now that you patched me up, allow me to do the same for you, if I can?" Anakin entered his son's field of vision, sitting on a small armchair right in front of him.

The young Jedi looked away, smiling sadly.

"I can't hide anything from you, can I?" he asked, rhetorically.

"Do you want to?" Anakin asked back.

"Never!" The vehemence in Luke's voice surprised them both. "It's just that..." He sighed in defeat. "...I always seem to come up against some conflict between my Jedi powers, my obligations as a member of the Government and just plain time!" He pounded the mattress in sheer frustration.

"In what way?" Anakin edged closer instinctively. His son's nearness was his light in the dark, and somehow, he seemed to have the same soothing effect on Luke. Damned if he knew why, but he did.

"This healing gift of mine..." Luke began with some difficulty, "...what's the point of having it if...?"

"If?" Anakin prompted, edging even closer.

"There are six people in this building in critical condition. They could die any minute," Luke exploded at last. "There are lots of medical facilities on this planet with people dying or suffering. Millions of people across the galaxy..."

"And there's only one of you," Anakin finished for him.

Luke met his father's eyes and nodded, his misery plain to see.

"And what if my healing gift became known all over the galaxy? Can you imagine how much my life would change? My privacy, my... Force, I'd become a freak. I would..."

"Easy, easy, my child," Anakin reached out and placed his hand on his son's shoulder. "Calm down," he squeezed lovingly.

"I'm scared, Father. This gift is too much for me to bear. I already feel guilty for all the things I'm _not_ doing." Luke's wide open eyes reflected how torn and divided he felt.

Anakin moved from the armchair to the bed and sat down beside his son. He wrapped his right arm around the young man's shoulders and cuddled him. When Luke's mind got all topsy-turvy like that, he awakened his mother-hen instinct with a vengeance.

"Take it easy, my boy. Take it easy." He shook the strong shoulder soothingly.

Luke took a deep breath, trying to relax, and sought his father's warmth and the peace only he could give him when he got so rattled.

Anakin chuckled helplessly.

"You really should give your brain cells a break, Son, or they will short-circuit. I think I smell smoke already."

Luke laughed despite himself and pressed up closer to his father.

"You're almost perfect, Luke. But I think this is your only flaw. You think too much." The older Jedi kissed the top of the blond head resting on his chest.

"Master Yoda said that, too," Luke commented. "I was always asking him the why of things. Why can I do this but I can't do that? I was a handful."

"I bet you also made him grow a few more grey hairs than he already had."

The two laughed at that.

"I didn't count them," Luke joked back.

"I doubt he would have let you."

The two remained silent for a minute, enjoying their closeness and basking in that moment of peaceful quiet, smiling softly.

"Look at me," Anakin said at last, placing his fingers under his son's chin and raising it up until their eyes met. "You have an incredible gift, Luke, the gift of giving health and relief to those wounded or hurting. But wielding such power can also be a double-edged sword." He held in his palm the trusting face that looked at him with heartbreaking openness. "I can't possibly understand what you're going through, but I'm trying to imagine how it is. I wish I could offer you a way to cope and be happy with it, but I can only answer with my gut instinct."

"Help me, Father," Luke asked, in a way that shattered Anakin's heart.

Anakin closed his eyes and prayed for his next words to be of any use for his child's tortured mind. He opened them again and looked down into the crystal blue that had a direct line to his soul.

"Trust the Force, my son," he found himself replying. "We are Jedi, but we are human, not superhuman. We have to live healthy lives that keep our minds sane. Outer and inner pressures are our worst enemies. Accept the fact that to help others, you must help yourself first. If you start living at the limit of your possibilities, travelling from one side of the galaxy to the other without sparing a thought for yourself or your own well-being, you'll self-destruct."

Luke looked away, seeing the wisdom in his father's words.

"You wouldn't have been given this gift if you weren't destined to do your best with it. Use it wisely, but learn to ration it, no matter how much it hurts, because in the long run, it'll pay off." Anakin made a sympathetic face. "You're not all-powerful, you just _can't_ help everybody. You'll help those you're_ destined to help_; nothing more, nothing less."

Luke closed his eyes and nodded to himself.

"I've also been meaning to talk to you about this way of life you've been leading lately, Luke," Anakin continued, a bit cautiously now. "As soon as you're back from a mission, you're already taking off for the next. You'll be able to endure this implacable rhythm for some time, but you'll break down sooner or later. A period of rest is advisable in between missions. You're the only Jedi available, and for that very reason the Government should assess the number of missions they assign you, and not send you to right wrongs in every corner of the galaxy. There were thousands of Jedi in the Old Republic, but there's only one of us now and we should proceed more thoughtfully." He made up his mind. "We have to talk to Mon Mothma about it, although we have more important matters to take care of now." His voice lowered noticeably, conveying the seriousness of their actual problems.

Luke sobered instantly.

"You're right. As usual, Father." He moved his head away from Anakin's shoulder. "I can't bring myself to think about what would I do if I didn't have you by my side. You make everything simple when I only see problems and complications. Bless the Force you're here to show me the way in this mess I have for a brain."

Anakin smiled fondly.

"Oh, I wouldn't call it a mess. You get a little wound-up occasionally, and it's my privilege to help you. Otherwise, I'd feel rather useless."

Luke eyed his father suspiciously, trying to ascertain if he was having him on. Sometimes, it was difficult to tell, especially when he put on that straight face. He decided Anakin was being serious about it.

"Don't tell me. You got a little 'wound-up' just now, right?"

Anakin's face broke into a smile.

"Caught!" He winked at his child impishly.

Shaking his head with a grin, Luke stood up, rearranged his clothes and headed for the door.

"Son," Anakin called, still sitting on the bed.

Luke turned around.

"Yes?" he asked.

"What about the six people in critical condition?"

"I was on my way to heal them," Luke replied, as if it was self-evident.

"You're willing to risk being discovered? They're likely to be monitored, you know."

"They risked their lives to protect us, Father. I couldn't bear _not_ helping them."

Anakin smiled sweetly.

"I'm not telling you _not_ to heal them, Luke. But there are... other ways."

The look of sheer mischief on his father's face immediately let Luke know that Anakin was up to something. He walked up to him. "What do you have in mind?" he asked, a smile already forming on his lips.

"Can you control your level of healing?" Anakin began. "I mean, can you make it stop at a certain point, if you so wish?"

Luke thought about it.

"I think I can," he nodded. "I only have to move my hands away _before_ feeling that the process has been completed."

"In that case," Anakin smiled, "you can put your hands on them in an apparently comforting gesture, and strenghten their systems so they can fight their wounds on their own. Just get them out of their critical condition. That way, no doctor will suspect that you had anything to do with it."

Luke stared at his father, his mouth hanging open. It took him some time to react, so blown away he was.

"Father, you're a GENIUS!" he exploded at last, throwing his arms around Anakin and hugging him enthusiastically. When he moved back, he grabbed his father's shoulders. "Where did you learn to be so sneaky?"

Anakin chuckled.

"I must be catching your tendency to sit on the fence," he joked, unashamedly.

Luke punched his father's shoulder in mock-indignation.

"I'll take that as a compliment," he said, recovering quickly.

Anakin laughed out loud and stood up.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	5. Chapter 5

The Peace party greeted the small delegation that had just arrived to say good-bye to them, Veltra's President at the head of it.

"I want to thank you once more for saving my life and the lives of my entourage," he said. "We will be forever in your debt. Please, count on our total cooperation." He reached out his hand to Anakin, who took it in his own and shook it warmly. "Our Security Forces will have a report for you shortly."

"Thank you, Mr. President." Anakin bowed his head respectfully. "We appreciate your assistance."

"And we appreciate your kindness in visiting our wounded. It was a gesture our people will never forget. All those in critical condition are already out of danger. You must know that before you leave."

"Thank you for letting us know, your Excellency. That's the best farewell present you could possibly give us." Anakin did his best to hide his knowing smile.

"I wish you a safe flight home," the President told them. "The bravery you showed when you made your appearance at the ceremony was a momentous breakthrough for the galaxy. We are honoured to be the first. Live in Peace, Anakin Skywalker." The President gave the older Jedi the holiest Veltran salute, his eyes conveying a genuine sincerity.

Moved beyond words by the unexpected gesture, Anakin didn't know what to say. He opened his mouth but no sound came out of it.

"Live in Peace, Mr. President. You and your courageous people." Luke took over, stepping forward, repeating the salute and bowing his head, respectful of the true forgiveness his father had been given. His eyes conveyed the personal gratitude he felt for that gift, and for what it meant to the man who had sired him.

They shook hands, and then the President addressed Lando, Han and Chewie and thanked them solemnly for protecting him during the attack.

In a gesture of friendship that said it all, the delegation remained on the landing platform until the Falcon took off and disappeared from sight.

* * *

"We'll arrive at Coruscant at 14:25 PM," Han announced after they jumped to light speed. "The flight will last 5 hours and 35 minutes." He rose to his feet, leaving Chewie in the copilot's seat, taking care of the final adjustments. Six months on drydock had given the two friends all the time in the world to leave the old ship as good as new.

"A game of dejarik, Father?" Luke asked Anakin with a smile.

"Sure! I'm a glutton for punishment." Anakin made a face of infinite suffering.

Luke nudged his father's ribs with his elbow playfully and they took seats facing each other. Lando sat beside them and set himself to watch their game, as an improvised audience.

Han took his usual seat by the Falcon's computer, and punched a few buttons, verifying their coordinates. Next, he sat back and took out the carving he had been working on for a few days now - a present for Leia.

The four friends had been engrossed for a few minutes, when Chewie walked in and entered the ship's pit, with the intention of putting away the tools that still lay scattered everywhere. He'd bought a complete tool-kit a few weeks ago, and he wanted to make a full inventory of the other tools they had, what were still useful and what could be disposed of.

He had been engaged in his task for quite a while when he found a box he had never seen before. He turned it around, trying to guess what could it be, but there were no distinctive marks on any side. He couldn't open it, so he put it aside, continuing with his clean-up.

Once everything had been put away and with an armful of several old tools that had no use anymore, Chewie's gaze settled again on the unknown box. He grabbed it too and exited the pit. It had aroused his curiosity, and he returned to it after disposing of the useless tools. It was locked, so he opened it with his special picklock and looked inside.

The first thing that greeted his eyes was the numbers. Red and big. It couldn't be a clock, because it was counting backwards.

**BACKWARDS!**

Chewie's eyes opened like two saucers.

00:22... 00:21... 00:20... 00:19...

A terrified moan left his throat.

The stark fear in it made Han look up at him from his carving.

"What is it, Chewie?" he asked, alarmed.

Chewie held out the box to him, his shaking hands almost dropping it. He moaned again.

"A BOMB?" Han, Luke, Anakin and Lando cried out at the same time. They stood and hurried to the Wookie's side. They watched the counter, petrified, realizing it was too late to do anything. They were about to die.

00:10... 00:09... 00:08...

Time stopped for Anakin. This couldn't be happening! He couldn't be standing here, watching that clock sign their death sentences! Chewie's, that fiercely loyal, one-of-a-kind, priceless Wookie friend! Lando's, whom he had met under the darkest of circumstances, and a man he had come to respect and care about as one of his best friends. Han's, the bravest pirate, and more upright and decent than many Kings and Princes. That young man was halfway between a friend and a son to him.

His children! Luke couldn't be about to die with him! He wanted his precious son to have the brightest future. He wanted his children to live long, happy, fulfilling lives, and make this galaxy a safe and beautiful place to live in.

His Leia! What would become of her? It was always toughest on the ones left behind. She would be left alone. Totally, utterly alone! She would never survive this.

No, NO! This couldn't be happening! It was wrong! They couldn't die today. They just couldn't!

00:05... 00:04... 00:03...

"NO! STOP!" he cried out, releasing in a torrent of emotion all the feelings storming inside him.

And the counter stopped. Just like that.

00:03.

The five friends looked at the frozen numbers, gasping, as if they had been running for hours. Their ragged respirations were the only sound in the central hold area for quite some time. Until, little by little, they dared to look up into each other's eyes, still not believing what had just happened.

"I-it was you, wa-wasn't it?" Han asked Anakin.

A drop of sweat rolled down the side of the older Jedi's face.

"I-I guess," was all he could say.

"Let's sit down?" Lando asked, afraid to move a single muscle, lest the slightest movement set off the bomb.

As one, the group walked up to the table, and Chewie put the bomb on it with the utmost care.

The counter didn't move.

00:03.

All five slumped down onto the vacant seats, blowing out all the air in their lungs.

Immediately, Anakin grasped his child's sweaty hand in his own, and then, he squeezed Han's forearm with the other. He _needed_ to verify all of them were safe and sound.

"Well, I suppose we finally uncovered your 'special gift'," Lando commented, in pretended nonchalance.

"So it seems, thank heavens," Anakin smiled tremulously.

None of them could look away from the box with the bomb inside.

"And what now? Is it disabled or did you just stop the counter?" Han asked, daring to blink.

"I'm not sure," Anakin replied honestly, trying to concentrate on his feelings. "I... I think I disabled the counter only, but the mechanism is intact." He felt Luke squeezing his hand, and he returned the pressure.

"Then, as long as we don't touch it, we're safe," the Corellian said, standing up gingerly. "I'll call home. They'll have to clear all the landing platforms before we arrive, and have the bomb squad waiting for us there. I doubt there are any fingerprints or any clues in that baby that can lead us to whoever are behind this, but it's worth a try."

* * *

"So! Did Veltra's report and the bomb squad come up with anything useful?" Mon Mothma got straight to the point, once everyone was seated.

"They came up with several things, but none of them very useful, I'm afraid," Lando replied, dejectedly.

"Let me be the judge of that," the President replied sternly.

"The traffic droids received a signal from somewhere in close proximity to the park where everything happened. The Security Forces have got no idea how all those droids ended up with blasters in their bellies. All droids undergo a thorough overhaul once a week, and there's no way anyone could put those blasters inside them without someone noticing it _before_ the overhaul. Whoever did it, slipped in the warehouse where the droids were kept by tampering with the security system, so they could have all the time in the world to arm and reprogram them _after_ the overhaul. Then, once in the street, with thousands of signals coming and going, they only had to use a remote to activate the droids' new programming and either stay there to watch the show or leave, as any normal pedestrian or driver. Right now, Veltra's authorities are investigating all those who had access to the warehouse in question, but there are literally hundreds of people. Frankly, I doubt that lead will take us anywhere," Lando ventured to say.

"I agree," the President nodded. "What about the bomb in the Falcon?"

Lando couldn't prevent a shiver from running up and down his spine at the too recent memory. He licked his lips and swallowed.

"The bomb squad disabled it after we landed, and even though their plan was apparently foolproof and we shouldn't have found the box by any means, there were only Chewie's prints on it." He made a brief pause. "We're dealing with pros here, no doubt about it. The bomb itself is an old but not uncommon TX-101 model, used in the mining business everywhere in the galaxy. In short, another dead end."

Mon Mothma looked down and let out a soft sigh. But a moment later, she looked up, her eyes flashing again.

"What do you get from all of this?" she asked everyone sitting at the table.

"All the weapons they've used so far '_seem'_ to indicate they're short in the resources department. They've been using old models of land-mines and bombs, and tampering with traffic droids. Nothing too costly and with a minimum risk for them. This method '_seems'_ to point at the typical guerrilla group," Areen Worzzlek suggested.

"As you said, it '_seems'_ to indicate a typical guerrilla method," Anakin promptly intervened the conversation. "But a guerrilla only seeks to throw out some occupier army or military force, and they soon make their demands known, so they can win over as many sympathizers to their cause as possible. The fact that we still don't know who're behind this shows they're misleading us deliberately."

"Only a fool would suggest the idea of a guerrilla," Han said, a bit too aggressively. The bomb in the Falcon had upset him greatly and it was taking him some time to calm down, contrarily to his usual way of handling things like that.

"I didn't suggest anything," Areen Worzzlek defended himself with the utmost dignity. "In case you didn't notice, I put the verb 'to seem' in quotation marks quite intentionally."

"I see no point in mentioning a theory that no one at this table takes seriously," Han argued.

"Please, let's calm down." Captain Ylek tried to soothe the two men's understandable, but still disturbing outbursts. "We're only thinking out loud and trying to come up with some answers."

Leia reached out and squeezed her beloved's hand. She could understand how Han was feeling, and through touch, she received the barrage of his raw emotions. She used her newly-developed Jedi powers to try and assuage her beloved's inner turmoil.

Han squeezed back and turned his head, smiling at her shakily. He took a deep breath and nodded.

"I'm sorry. I apologize," he addressed Areen with a sincerely contrite face.

Areen swallowed hard and nodded once, still a bit upset.

"Let's not allow this situation to disturb us more than it already has," Mon Mothma advised them all. "We survived years of war against the Empire because we were able to stick together in the darkest of circumstances. This time is no different. Let's contribute with everything we can think about, no matter how irrelevant it may seem. In any passing comment could lie a clue or a lead that could help us to put an end to this unwelcome challenge."

There was a short silence, as everybody regained their composure.

"I am convinced we're facing a very dangerous threat," Anakin continued in a firm voice. "They've targeted the very people who embody the former Alliance's cause against the Empire. Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, Chewbacca, Lando Calrissian... they're more than just names or people, they're symbols. Kill them, and you'll have destroyed the New Republic's very core."

"Wait a minute," Captain Thazzel interrupted the older Jedi. "Many other people also embody the former Alliance here. Princess Leia, our President, Areen Worzzlek... blast it, even _you_ embody the Alliance and the Republic now as much as all of them. If they had wanted to kill them off, why use guerrilla tactics, and off Coruscant at that? They could have tried it here first, and with more chances of success. We're all more vulnerable at home, especially when we're not expecting an attack."

"True," Anakin agreed, his eyes conveying his admiration for the young Chiss' reasoning powers, "but on attempting a terrorist attack on Coruscant, in this building, the heart of the New Republic, there would have been no mistaking their intentions. It would have made it crystal clear the Republic _was_ their target. On the other hand, by using guerrilla tactics, they create confusion and even though they're not as likely to succeed, they have their possibilities nonetheless. As you can see, they're still way ahead of us, since we're sitting here, still trying to come to an agreement about who they might be," he pointed out cleverly.

An ominous silence befell them all.

"They've made Captain Skywalker, Generals Solo and Calrissian, Chewbacca and incidentally myself their objectives because we were the easiest and most conspicuous targets; but I am positive they will strike here, if they can." Anakin went on relentlessly. He needed all of them to be aware of the grave danger they were facing. "We must take extreme security measures and make it as difficult for them as we can."

"I completely agree with our Vice-President," Luke intervened for the first time, nodding at his father respectfully. "This is no personal vengeance, or some terrorist group trying to vindicate some unknown revoked privilege or whatever. This is a thoroughly meditated and flawlessly executed plan to bring down the New Republic."

"If I didn't know better, the Empire would be my prime suspect." The words left Mon Mothma's lips before they actually formed in her brain.

Anakin raised an eyebrow and a little smile formed on his lips. His neverending admiration for the absolutely outstanding person they had as President increased yet another notch.

"Mine too," he said, a funny quality in his voice.

"The Empire doesn't exist anymore," Areen Worzzlek reminded them all unnecessarily.

"That we know of," Vaughan Worthwing spoke for the first time. "But there's something about this whole scheme that smells vaguely of some twisted tactics I still remember very well." The young man's eyes turned to Captain Thazzel, who looked back at him and nodded. They were well-acquainted with the Empire's methods. They had used them for years.

"All twisted schemes resemble each other in some way or another," Admiral Ackbar pointed out, a sad edge in his voice. "But feelings make poor evidences."

"Does this mean we're supposed to sit here and wait until they strike again, until there are more innocent victims, like that married couple on Veltra and their now-orphan children, and Lieutenant Dobson and his family?" Han's voice resounded in the silent chamber.

"No," Mon Mothma replied firmly. "We'll take all necessary measures to ensure the civilian population's safety; and ours, as well."

"It's difficult to take any security measures when so little is known about the threat itself," General Madine observed.

"It is indeed, but we can only do our best," Anakin replied kindly. "At least, our Fleet, buildings and staff already have the latest, best security measures. We'll resume the drills until they're 100% successful. Let's pray we never have to put those lessons into practice."

There was another short silence, broken by the President's determined voice.

"For the present, Jedi Skywalker's assignments are suspended, unless an unexpected crisis that requires his urgent mediation arises. I'm aware of the fact that this implacable rhythm we have been imposing on him lately wasn't healthy, and I thank him for his efforts," she smiled softly at Luke. "I regret we have been abusing our only available Jedi's abilities, but it's understandable when he performs his duties so exceptionally well." She made a short pause. "Now, it's time for all of us to think carefully what our next move will be." She couldn't help a small sigh from escaping her. "We'll sleep on it and discuss any ideas we come up with tomorrow morning at eleven hundred hours." She rose to her feet and everybody followed her. "Dismissed."

Little by little, the Great Hall became gradually empty as people left, discussing the situation in small groups.

Leia approached Areen Worzzlek and softly touched his arm, drawing his attention. She wanted to apologize again on Han's behalf and share a few pointers with him. The two of them left.

"Captain Skywalker," Mon Mothma addressed Luke.

"Yes, your Excellency?" The young man walked up to her.

"I read your report, along with Generals Solo and Calrissian's, and the Vice-President gave me a detailed account of what happened on Veltra. I intend to follow all your recommendations and give Commander Worthwing a commendation for his actions."

"I am delighted to know that," Luke smiled. "His quick thinking saved us all."

"He addressed me before the meeting started, requesting to be reassigned as a member of the special team that's acting as your personal escorts."

"He's one of our best pilots and I wouldn't want him to waste his abilities as a bodyguard. But at the same time, if he hadn't been with us on Veltra, we wouldn't be here today," the young Jedi pondered.

"I know," the President nodded. "I told him he would be allowed to accompany you, as long as it didn't interfere with his duties in the Red Squadron."

"Wise decision," Anakin approved, walking up behind his son and placing his hands on his shoulders.

Mon Mothma half-closed her eyes when she saw Han Solo, Lando Calrissian and Chewbacca approaching her, too. She looked from one to the others, taking in the serious expressions on their faces.

"Why do I have the feeling that you're about to tell me something I'm not going to like?" She tried to relieve the tension, in an easygoing but still dignified manner.

Right then, the doors opened and Princess Leia walked in, engaged in the last stages of a conversation with Vaughan Worthwing, and followed by C-3PO and R2-D2.

"The remaining family member makes her entrance!", she commented fondly. "If all of you are in on this, I fear the worst."

Anakin smiled, understanding her need to bring some levity to the moment.

"We're not here to suggest any outrageous course of action, but to inform you of some highly disturbing suspicions."

Mon Mothma's face lost all colour for a second, but she pulled herself together with an admirable self-possession.

"In that case, I suggest we take a seat. I can guess this won't be easy for any of us."

Quietly, everybody sat around the big round table, next to each other.

"So," the President cleared her throat and interlaced her fingers on the table, "what did you find out?"

After exchanging a meaningful look with his children and his friends, asking their permission to act as their spokesman, Anakin took a deep breath and began his exposition.

"From the beginning, this threat had a peculiar method of working. They've been mysteriously elusive, striking only when it was safe, and using old weaponry. They distracted us by leaving us wondering at their unusual style and motives; that way, keeping us from focusing on what was really important. The attacks themselves. The land-mine on Ansion, the ambush on Veltra and the bomb in the Falcon not only indicate they were thinking ahead of us, but they knew exactly _where_ we were, _what_ we were going to do and _when_ we were going to do it."

Mon Mothma nodded slowly.

"And your conclusions?" she asked.

"There's only one conclusion," Anakin replied with a kind and sad smile. "Someone from the inside. Someone with access to everything they need. Logistics, Communications, Security, Records... Someone who was with us on Veltra. Someone capable of improvising in a matter of hours when the ambush failed. Someone close to us, who probably sat at this table only a few minutes ago."

Mon Mothma raised a hand immediately, putting a stop to Anakin's speech.

"Now wait a minute!" She was honestly shocked by what her Vice-President was implying. "I've been working with these people from before the Alliance was even born! There's absolutely _no_ chance of a traitor lurking in our Government. I refuse to admit any shadow of a doubt about anyone's commitment and integrity!"

"It's also very difficult for me to admit that trusted people I recommended to you when we formed a Government, could be involved in this," Anakin said, knowing only too well how she felt. "But we'd better take this suspicion seriously, before it's too late."

Mon Mothma shook her head, as if trying to reason with a stubborn child.

"I'm telling you Anakin, there's just _no_ way."

"Mrs. President," Leia spoke for the first time. "I've also been part of the Alliance from the very beginning. It has been terribly hard for me to accept the possibility that a trusted friend, someone I've known for many years, could be trying to kill my brother, my father, and the people I love. But sooner or later, there comes a moment when we have to put our feelings aside, and open our eyes to the truth."

"What truth?" Mon Mothma exclaimed. "You're asking me to consider the possibility that people who've been ready to die for our cause, _with me_ and _for me_, are trying to bring down the New Republic, when they could have killed me, all of us, these past years, and spared themselves this scheme now?"

A loud silence resounded all over the room.

"I'm afraid you'll have to come to me with something more than mere 'suspicions' and 'feelings.' It's easy to slander and plant the seed of distrust, but to pull it up after that is next to impossible," she reproved them all with a wounded look.

"The seed of distrust was planted the moment a land-mine almost killed my son and my friends," Anakin's soft voice echoed in the Great Hall's walls, awakening them all to the simple truth in his words. "There is no turning back now."

The President set her jaw and looked down at her entwined hands, lost in the turmoil her Vice-President and her counselors' speculations had stirred in her. And yet... her little voice was already beginning to whisper into her ear, telling her to listen to them.

But it hurt. It hurt too much to accept it. It was too terrible to contemplate.

"As I said, come to me when you have proof to support your suspicions. Not a moment before."

Her words were clearly a dismissal. Reluctantly, everybody stood up and headed for the door slowly, casting hesitant looks behind them, at their unyielding leader.

Anakin remained sitting beside her in silence, trying to soothe the agitation their words had caused. Several minutes passed thus until, seeing there was nothing he could do, he rose to his feet. He looked down at her fondly, and placed a warm hand on her shoulder.

"You're the most open-minded and intuitive non-Force sensitive I know. Listen to your inner voice and make the right decision. They're already one step ahead of us. Don't let them take another, or it will _really_ be too late."

With a gentle squeeze and a compassionate smile she couldn't see, Anakin left the Great Hall, leaving her alone with her troubled thoughts.

* * *

Anakin came out of his bathroom and prepared himself to get into bed. He took off his robe and put it on the back of an easy chair next to his bed. Then, he sat down cross-legged on the covers, and prepared himself for his customary few minutes of cleansing meditation before going to sleep.

For some reason, he felt restless and uncomfortable, as an animal anticipating an earthquake. But the restlessness came from _inside_ him, not outside, and he knew what that meant.

The older Jedi sighed in resigned defeat. Nightmares would plague him tonight again. With quiet acceptance, he prepared himself. He raised a mental block, separating his subconscious from his son's, that way preventing him from being awakened by the bleeding of his father's psyche onto his own.

He had been doing it since the first, and hopefully last, time, when his vivid nightmares had brought Luke at a run to his bedroom months before, after he had awakened, distraught and soaked up in sweat, crying out mentally for comfort.

Luke had been so shaken by what he had seen in his father's mind, that Anakin had resolved right then and there never to subject his child again to the horrors and fears that lurked in his memory. He had no right to make his son go through that, never mind Luke's claims that it was his right, as his child and someone who loved him.

Since that night, every time he felt that a certain night would be one of _those_ nights, he raised a mental shield that kept his subconscious apart from Luke's. Not his conscious, because Luke would feel it, then. Fortunately, he knew some mental techniques that allowed him to keep those shields raised even in his sleep, when he had no control over his thoughts and dreams.

And thus, he had existed these past six months. Mercilessly chased by his past crimes, but content, because he was keeping his beloved son from them.

Anakin shook his head, disdainfully. The galaxy had much bigger problems than former Darth Vader's psychic traumas. He set his mind to analyze and consider all the facts they had currently at their disposal, and try to come up with an answer or at least, a clue. It was amazing what the brain could do during deep sleep. From solving the greatest mathematical equations to more mundane matters of the heart. If he could coax his mind into reflecting on the threat looming on the New Republic, perhaps he would be spared a night of sheer horror.

The big man smiled sadly. Whom was he trying to fool? Certainly, not himself. This was the price he had to pay for being alive. And he was more than willing to pay it. His head turned to the small holograph on his bedside table. Himself, Luke on his right, laughing at a joke his father had told, and Leia on his left, looking at her brother adoringly, trying to control her mirth.

Anakin's heart filled to bursting with love. Yes, those two little angels were worth the most terrifying nightmares. They were worth his sanity, every drop of his blood. They were worth his very soul, unworthy as it was.

He reached out to the holograph, but his hand stopped a few inches away from it. He drew Luke's face with his fingertips lovingly and then, he reached out to his daughter's smiling face. He hesitated and turned his hand into a fist.

Even in the privacy of his quarters, he was wary of touching his daughter's holograph.

Force, what would he give to have a normal father-daughter relationship with Leia! He needed her so desperately!

He knew she was trying, and they had come a long way already, but still, it was not enough. It wouldn't be until he had her in his arms and they could embrace, not only physically, but also embrace everything they had been, everything they were, and everything they would ever be. Their past, their present, and their future.

With a throbbing ache in his heart, Anakin moved his hand back, opened the bedcovers and got into bed. He tucked himself up and as he always did, he looked at the empty spot beside him.

"Good night, my angel," he whispered into the now dark room, "take care of us from wherever you are. I love you, and I always will, my love."

* * *

It was hot. Very hot. But not around him. That burning heat came from inside him.

And that foul smell was somehow familiar. It was like...

NO!

In a flash of insight, he knew it was his own burned flesh he was smelling.

Anakin's panic rose like a tsunami, and he began writhing helplessly on the hard surface where he lay. He tried to raise on his elbows.

He had no elbows to support him. He was nothing more than a head and a trunk of roasted flesh. At the ends of his four extremities there were only stumps.

He cried out the name of his beloved wife.

But he had no wife anymore. He had nothing left. Padmé and his unborn child were dead. His life was over.

He cried out to be allowed to die. He didn't want to go on living when there was nothing worth living for.

'_Yes, there is. You can live to take your revenge. Revenge on those who caused this,'_ a soothingly dark and ominous voice whispered to him. _'There's an immense comfort in hatred and evil. Destroy as much as they've destroyed you. Release all the anger you've rightfully accumulated all these years deep inside you.'_

No, no! He clung to the remaining love inside him. Padmé wouldn't have wanted him to surrender to hate and destruction. She would have wanted him to go on living.

But what kind of life lay ahead of him? A life of pain and madness. Of being permanently attached to a life-support system that would never allow him to lead a normal existence. A life of mourning the loss of the only beauty and perfection he had ever known.

Any remaining goodness in him had died with Padmé and his baby.

His baby! What would it have been like to hold it in his arms, as he had dreamed of? To cradle it, to soothe its crying, to see it smile and coo, and feel its tiny hand grabbing his finger and never letting it go? How would it be to hear its first word? To see it walk? To see it running on its short little legs, swaying unsteadily and falling into his arms, giggling and clinging to his neck? How would it be to feel its touch? How would it feel to hear it say "Daddy" for the first time?

He cried out, insane with grief.

"LET ME DIE!" he screamed, leaving what was left of his vocal cords all raw and torn. Blood gurgled in his throat and he choked on it.

'_No,'_ the voice whispered into his mind. _'You can still be useful, if you want to. The Jedi took away everything you loved. Make them pay for it. You'll see how fulfilling it can be to give back as much as you got. Let me show you a whole new way. No love, no weakness, no softness. The Dark Side will realize all your dreams of revenge and power. Power as you've never known. Immediate and satisfying as you can't possibly imagine. Surrender to the darkness in your soul and join me. This galaxy will never be the same. We'll show them all. We'll wipe out all those preaching hypocrites who made so much harm for so many centuries. All those who oppose us will be annihilated. No mercy, no compassion. For anyone. Me and you, together.'_

The lure of that voice was almost irresistible.

'_Yield to the Darkness. Nothing will hold you back, then. In the Dark Side, everything is possible. The power will be IN you. YOU will be the power. Let it dominate your destiny. Come with me, my young apprentice, and I promise it won't hurt ever again. Leave behind a lifetime of maudlin self-sacrifice and unrewarding abnegation that took away everything from you and gave nothing in return, and give yourself to the passions that could never be satisfied. You always knew this was the way. You could feel it. This galaxy doesn't need any unsufferable do-gooders, but someone who knows how to dominate all those who can only be led, but still dare to tell what's best for themselves and the others. We know. We'll obliterate all those little cynics with small minds. Only the strong will survive. Come with me. This is just the beginning, Lord Vader. I will be your guide in your new life.'_

A wave of invigorating evil and hatred seemed to fill his bloodstream, as the new light dawned on him. Anakin felt it strengthening him, giving him a new purpose for his wretched life. If this was his reward for following the rules, obeying and always trying to do the right thing, it was high time for a change. It was time to take control and impose what was truly right; by force, if necessary. In the end, people would understand. And if they didn't, too bad... for them.

'_Yes, yes, that is the spirit, young one. That is the way. The only way. Give me your soul, hand me your destiny, and I will fill them with a glorious greed and thirst for power that will _never_ end. An eternity of Dark fulfilment. Give in to me, and you will never feel empty and alone again.'_

'_Yes. I will follow you, my master. From now on, nothing else will matter. I will be nothing but yours to lead. Show me. Show me everything. There is nothing else for me.'_

'_Good, my young apprentice. Excellent. Let my droids complete their work. Soon. Very soon...'_

A thrill of greed and thirst for revenge boiled in Anakin's blood. He bared his teeth and snarled, like a wild animal waiting to attack and relishing the wait. He eagerly anticipated the ways he would get his sweet revenge, each of them bloodier and nastier than the last.

And before he knew, the task was completed.

'_See?'_ The voice was obviously pleased with him. _'The Dark Side already helped you to make the time go faster, it kept the physical pain at bay, and now it is done. Are you ready to begin your new life, Lord Vader?'_

'_I am, my master.'_

A soft noise above his head made him raise his eyes. A black mask loomed above him, ready to be his shield and his protection against the outside world for the rest of his life.

'_Say the word, and it will be done,'_ the voice said.

'_Proceed,'_ he replied unhesitatingly.

As the mask was lowered over his face, there was a flash of light in his head. He saw a young face, very similar to his own, looking down at him. A young man in his early twenties. He had blond hair, blue eyes, noble features, and a warm and caring smile.

And then, he knew. It was his son's face he was contemplating.

How could that be? He had no son!

But he had! He had a son named Luke! And a daughter named Leia! He had friends, and a family! He belonged! He wasn't alone anymore!

'_You are alone. You will always be, because no one will ever understand. No one, except me. Come with me now, and everything will be forgiven and forgotten.'_

'_NO! This isn't really happening! This is a nightmare. It's got to be! I love and I am loved. I only have to open my eyes and I will be lying in my bed in Coruscant, with my children and my friends!'_ he fought back, struggling to wake up.

But he couldn't wake up. That dark presence was restraining him with a superhuman strength, and the black mask was closer and closer to his face.

And then, it was Luke's face that was being covered with the mask.

NO! Not his son! Not his Luke! His beloved son!

'_Nooo! Take me! Take me, but don't take my son! I will do everything you want, but don't defile my child, I beg you!'_

'_You have no son. He is mine now. Just like you. You both belong to me and I will do with you as I please. I will kill him before your eyes. I will dismember him slowly, delighting in his pain, as his blood falls at my feet.'_

Rotten teeth framed in a twisted smile edged closer. So close that he could smell the foul stench he had almost forgotten.

He couldn't breathe, sheer terror had gripped his soul and wouldn't let him go. He wanted to react, he wanted to grab that thin neck and squeeze the life out of that evil creature, but his very soul would be forfeit to the Dark Side again if surrendered to his hatred. He was caught between a rock and a hard place, frozen on the spot by more fear than he had ever thought it could possibly exist.

'_You cannot kill me. I will take away from you everything you ever loved. I will turn your son, and your daughter, and then you will beg me to kill you. But I will not. You will live, and belong to me again. For all time. The entire Skywalker family will be mine. Mine!'_

'_NOOOOO! Leia! Luke! My little angels! Don't! Don't! Take me! Take my heart, my mind, my soul. Take all you want! I will give it freely to you, but don't touch them!'_

And then, Luke's face began to change. It aged horribly in a heartbeat. His face became ashen, his eyes filled with hatred and looked at him, yellow and devoid of any warmth and innocence.

He had lost his little one for good.

That was more than Anakin could stand. His soul fled from his body and he cried out until there was no spark of sanity in his mind. He wanted to forget he had ever existed. He wanted to die.

* * *

His own silent scream awakened him. His throat was all raw and sore, and he sat up with a jerk, his arms flailing in the darkness of his room. He searched blindly for the lights and heard a loud crash. He couldn't find the wall, he couldn't even remember where he was. He was in that blurry place between dream and reality, where everything's so vivid that death seems a welcome relief from so much horror.

His mind cried out his son's name, the only goodness in his life that had remained steady and firm; his only constant when everything around him was falling apart.

And then, he was being wrapped in strong, warm arms. His head was pressed up to an infinitely protective chest that sheltered him, and enveloped him in more tenderness and love than he had ever known. Soft, loving fingers buried themselves in his hair and began a soothing, rhythmic stroking, massaging his scalp and relieving the pressure there, that was more than he could bear.

Helpless as a baby, Anakin clung to the person who was holding him, recognizing him at a purely instinctive level.

"Luke. Luke. LukeLukeLukeLuke...' he chanted, unable to stop. Only that name could scare the fear away. Only that name was the light in the dark, the sanity in the bottomless pit of madness that was swallowing him alive.

"Yes, Father," the most beautiful voice in the universe calmed him. "I am here, with you. You are safe in my arms now. Nothing and no one will harm you, and certainly not _him_," the voice oozed venom then. "He's dead and won't touch you ever again. Don't be afraid."

But Anakin was beyond reasoning. Logic had deserted him and he could only be reached through feelings, through touch. Through love.

"I could smell my own burned flesh. He... He turned me again and then he... he threatened me with turning you and your sister if... if I... and then..." he moaned, incapable of saying the words, and hid his face in his son's chest, wanting to disappear there.

"I know, he turned me. I felt your dream," Luke said, holding back a shiver. But he had to be strong for his father now. For the two of them. He held Anakin tighter. "_I am_ safe. _You are_ safe. We all are. Everything's all right."

"There was so much hatred in your eyes when you looked at me... I had lost you. I had lost my little one forever!" Anakin cried, grabbing his child's pyjama top and almost tearing it.

"You will _never_ lose me, Father. Nothing will take me away from you. No one will take _this_ away from us!" Luke exclaimed passionately, nuzzling the hair on the top of his father's sweaty head and kissing it. He began rocking the brutally trembling body, caressing the long back up and down with one hand, and sinking the other in the blond strands. His father was keeping his hair longer than usual these days, and he liked it. It was slightly wavy, and it was wavier now that it was soaking wet. "Shhh, it's all right. Everything's all right. Hold on to me. I will keep the fear away. Shhhh."

Anakin obeyed the soft commands trustingly, and little by little, the searing, mindless terror began receding. He wrapped his own arms around the body holding him, completing the circle of love.

"That's it," Luke smiled, his heart bursting with tenderness. "Relax, breathe deeply. Let the Light soothe you."

"You are the Light, my beautiful Light, little angel," the words left Anakin's lips of their own volition.

"Oh, Force!" Luke exclaimed, his own tears streaming down his cheeks. He wiped them away with his father's hair, and then, he let go. He rained dozens of devoted kisses on the precious head he held, and pressed it closer to his chest, almost crushing it.

"I love you, little one." Anakin whispered, closing his eyes and rubbing his face against his child's breast, all of him crying out for more comfort.

"And I love you, Father. Try to sleep now," Luke leaned back against the padded headboard and accommodated his father more comfortably against him. Anakin followed him blindly, like a defenceless puppy, his long arms tightening their hold around his son's torso. "There will be no more nightmares, I'll make sure of that." His fingertips searched in the darkness for his father's face and wiped the tears away. Then, he bent down and kissed the burning eyelids, making the stinging go away.

Anakin moaned softly.

"What would I do without you?"

"Quite probably, you'd still be scaring the shit out of everybody," Luke joked, quite intentionally.

Anakin let out a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob.

"Watch your mouth, young man. I'm still your father," he mock-chided.

"And I wouldn't change you for any other," Luke replied immediately.

A big hand reached up in a heartbreaking display of need and vulnerability. Luke took it in his own and interlaced his fingers with it.

"Not even after...?"

"Not even after," Luke didn't let him finish, and hugged him for all he was worth. He grabbed the rumpled bedclothes and covered his father with them. "Are you comfortable?" he asked softly.

Anakin nodded.

"The child comforting the father," he whispered to himself.

"It is my honour, even though I'd rather not have to do it." Luke resumed his caresses, needing it as much as his father. "But that is the deal, and we can only accept it."

"And be grateful for it," Anakin said, meaning it with all his heart.

Luke closed his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat. Now that the worst was over, the delayed shock of his father's nightmare and being awakened by his distraught mental scream, was beginning to settle in. He understood right then and there what his father had been doing these past months, and it infuriated him.

"Never, _ever_ shield your mind from mine again. Don't you dare to deny me what you would take from me gratefully, do you hear?" he ordered, his voice strained and edgy. "We're stronger together, and only together will we get over this, sane and whole. You are my strength, Father, as I am yours. Don't do this to us again. Promise me you won't!" He looked down at the flushed face, and his anger dissipated as if by magic at the sight of those wounded eyes.

Anakin pursed his lips and nodded his head in acquiescence.

"I just wanted..."

"To protect me, I know," Luke smiled. "But we can't hide from each other. We should know that by now. Our destinies are inextricably bound. What happens to you, happens to me. Your fears are my fears." He took a deep, calming breath. "Please, promise that you won't shield from me ever again."

Anakin looked up at his son, a pleading expression on his face.

"Luke, I have nightmares almost every night. Your mind couldn't possibly..."

"Promise!" Luke demanded, his unyielding eyes boring into his father's.

Anakin's eyes opened wide at the stubborn firmness and fire in those blue orbs, so much like his own. The child would never give up. With a resigned sigh, he reached up and wiped away the tear tracks on the pale cheeks.

"Is this what you want to be subjected to, night after night?" he asked, with haunted eyes.

"More than anything," the young man replied resolutely.

Anakin's tormented mind cuddled up to the warm sanctuary his son offered, never wanting to come out. Relinquishing all control, he allowed Luke to cradle and soothe him, until he thought he would pass out.

'_Where does so much peace come from?'_ he asked in sheer wonderment.

'_From you,'_ was the immediate reply. _'Getting you back gave me the strength I had been seeking all my life. You are my peace. Let me be your shelter now. It's easier to carry the burden when there are two sharing the weight. You don't have to go through this alone. Let me accompany you on your journey. It is my destiny, too.' _

'_Force, you're crazy! You know that?'_ Anakin exclaimed.

'_Tell me something I don't know,' _the young man cracked with fake arrogance. _'Close your eyes, Father. I will be here, watching your sleep. You are safe; don't be afraid.'_

"I can't, I'm still too shaken. It'll take a while for me to relax enough to fall asleep," Anakin said out loud.

Luke's gaze was drawn toward the windows. The sky wasn't black anymore, but dark blue. A new day was dawning, and for some reason, the young man felt a ray of sweet hope making its way from deep inside him. His arms drew his father closer, and he rested his cheek on the older man's head, his eyes never leaving the increasingly lighter sky.

"Tell me something happy," he asked all of a sudden.

"Happy?" Anakin asked back, not quite understanding what his son meant by that.

"Yes," Luke nodded, his hand caressing the wavy hair soothingly. "Something peaceful. Something that makes you smile, just thinking about it."

Anakin's mind wasn't in the mood for wallowing in memories that could turn out bad all too easily. The only thing that made him smile just thinking about it was his children.

And then, his face broke into a smile.

"I named you," he said simply.

"Really?" Luke's heart skipped a beat in his chest at the totally unexpected bit of information that meant more to him than all the riches in the universe. "Tell me!" he asked, unable to hold back his impatience... and his emotion.

Pressing closer against his child's breast, Anakin's voice got all soft and dreamy, lost in the sweetest memory from so long ago.

"One night, when your mother was six months pregnant, something awakened me. A vague feeling of disquiet and fear. I couldn't shake it off, until I realized that those feelings didn't come from a nightmare your mother was having, but from you."

"Me?" Luke asked.

"Not you, exactly. The baby. We never knew there were two of you. We wanted to be surprised when you were born. We didn't even want to know the baby's gender," Anakin explained. "So, when I realized the feeling of restlessness came from the baby, I slipped down in the bed, uncovered your mother's belly and I talked to you."

"You talked to me? To us?" Luke was too moved to form coherent thoughts. He felt as if with every word that left his father's lips, he was becoming more and more real, more attached to his past. A past he and his father had shared for several months. His parents, his sister and him had actually _been_ a family before everything went wrong. Just knowing that gave him a sense of belonging like he had never known before. The four of them. His mother, his father, his sister and him. His eyes filled with tears.

"I tried to soothe you through the Force," Anakin continued, apparently oblivious to his child's state of mind, "and it worked. I told you that you only had to worry about growing healthy and strong, and your mother and I would do the rest. Then, a few bulges appeared in your mother's stomach, and I kissed them."

Luke shuddered.

Anakin reached up and took hold of his son's right hand lying on his head, brought it down to his lips and kissed the wrist. A smile lit up his features.

"Then, I asked you whether you were a girl or a boy." There was laughter in his voice, and it pulled Luke together immediately.

"And what did we say?" he asked, smiling helplessly too.

"You teased me like two little devils," Anakin laughed softly at the remembrance.

"We did? In what way?" He wanted to know _everything_ about the moment they had shared, so many years ago.

"You told me you were a girl, only to deny it later and tell me you were a boy."

Luke spluttered in bashful amusement.

"We did that? How?"

"By kicking," Anakin replied fondly. "But the funniest thing was that you were telling the truth. You weren't _only_ a girl or a boy. You were a girl _and_ a boy, but had no way to tell me. And it never crossed my mind that we were expecting twins."

"And what happened then?" Luke asked, looking in utter fascination at the shades of pink and gold appearing in the sky, as the images his father was planting in his mind filled his heart to bursting.

"I told you that I loved you even if you were a tease, as I absently drew a pattern on your mother's belly. And then, you drew it back at me."

"WHAT?" Luke exclaimed, tearing his gaze away from the splendid vision of Coruscant's horizon, to look at his greatest treasure in his arms, who was already looking up at him, his face shining with joy.

"Yes, we communicated empathically that night. The three of us," Anakin said, with the wonder of the Universe reflected in his eyes. "I felt your love for me reaching out and enveloping me completely. For the first time in my life, I felt I belonged to something bigger than me. Something meaningful; the only thing truly worth dying for." He looked down at the hand he held, and pressed it to his cheek needfully. "The most beautiful part of me that would go on living when I ceased to exist. I understood right then and there. You and your mother _were_ my life, but that night was the night I truly felt the connection between all living things that the Masters kept talking about, and I couldn't quite comprehend. It was Love. My love for my wife and my unborn child and your love for me _were_ the Force. You were my Love, my Universe. My everything." He took a deep, trembling breath. "I pressed my face against your mother's belly, and I felt you pressing up against me. We _touched_ for the very first time then, my son."

Luke let out an indescribable sound, half moan, half sob. He had never felt like this before. Every empty place inside him was full to overflowing with lights and colours. It was perfection and joy beyond anything he had ever experienced. It was like floating in lukewarm waters, soothing and purifying. Lukewarm... his eyes opened wide.

'_Yes, that's when I knew what your name would be, if you turned out to be a boy,' _Anakin's voice whispered into his mind. _'That was the feeling you evoked in me. Never alone, never unloved. Belonging forever. With you. For you.'_

'_Oh, Father!'_ Luke exclaimed as the happiest tears he would ever shed, rolled down his face. _'Thank you for sharing something so private with me. I feel... Oh, I feel...'_

'_I know how you feel, Son, for I feel the same,'_ Anakin smiled lovingly.

'_Lukewarm,'_ both minds sang in unison.

They laughed and hugged fiercely.

"I awakened your mother, then, and told her what your name would be," Anakin finished his tale out loud. "She loved it, and your name immediately triggered your sister's name in her mind. But she refused to tell me."

"She knew when to be a tease, too," Luke commented, adoring his mother for that.

"You have no idea," Anakin smiled. "It took me more than twenty years, but I found out at last."

"Yes, at last," Luke sighed in total contentment.

"We fell asleep holding your mother's belly," Anakin reminisced with a bittersweet feeling deep inside; but he quickly snapped out of it. "That was the most perfect moment of my life, until then." He made a self-deprecating face. "What a pity I didn't learn anything from it."

"You did," Luke corrected him, "although you only became aware of it decades later."

"That's my boy," Anakin smiled fondly. "Always looking at the positive side of the darkest side of life."

"Yep, that's me!" Luke admitted unashamedly. "And I bet you're feeling more relaxed now."

"I am," Anakin admitted. "You can go back to bed now. I will be fine," he said after a short pause.

Luke didn't move and didn't say a word.

"Luke?" Anakin looked up at his child curiously. "I'm all right. You can return to your quarters. You can't be comfortable like this, Son."

"I'm perfectly comfortable and I'm _exactly_ where I want to be," Luke settled the matter. He sat up a bit straighter and leaned back against the padded headboard again. He pulled his father's body closer and placed Anakin's head on his heart, feeling instinctively that the rhythmic beating would lull him to a dreamless sleep. "Let us sleep now, and let's hope for a brain-wave to hit us in the next few hours. We're in desperate need of some clues."

Anakin bit his lower lip. He felt guilty for not insisting, but sleep tonight without that blinding source of Light and Love rocking his tortured soul would be impossible.

'_I need this as much as you do, Father. Allow me this honour.'_

Anakin closed his eyes and took a deep, searing breath. Force, it hurt to breathe through so much love! He enveloped his son's ribcage with his arms, desperate to give as much as he was receiving.

'_My little angel!'_ he sent, before succumbing to the most restful sleep he'd had in decades.

Luke remained awake a few minutes more, drinking in the peace and contentment emanating from the sleeping form in his arms.

He was shocked at the wall his father had been putting up between them to protect him from the horrors that lurked in his mind. He wondered how his father had held on all this time without going mad.

And this was what Anakin had agreed on, when he'd returned to him in the Death Star? Remorse greater than anything he'd ever known, overwhelmed the young man then.

That was what the Force had decreed for his father. For the _two_ of them, because there was no separating line between them.

Looking down at his father, sleeping so trustingly in his arms, Luke felt his heart shattering into a million tiny pieces. If only...!

If only.

He took his father's hand in his own, and felt Anakin returning the pressure automatically in his sleep.

Biting his lip, Luke wrapped the covers more securely around his father and held him intensely. No more nightmares for him tonight, even if he had to fight them one by one.

With a last look at the slowly rising sun and burying one hand in the soft wavy hair, Luke joined his father in the foggy realm of sleep.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	6. Chapter 6

The beeping noises in the background were getting louder and louder. Luke made a face in his sleep and tried to shut them out, but they only became more insistent. Opening his eyes reluctantly, he squinted at the light that illuminated the room. That meant the day was in full bloom already! He looked at the alarm, realizing that it was an hour later than they usually got up. How...?

A short beep made him turn his head and he saw Artoo a couple metres away from the bed.

"It was you, wasn't it? You turned it off so we could sleep a little bit more," he stated with a little smile.

Artoo admitted it with a soft beep.

"You did right, Artoo; thank you," Luke nodded at the droid. "We needed it." He looked down at Anakin, sound asleep in his arms, totally oblivious to their conversation. "I don't want to wake him up," he muttered to himself. "He's sleeping so peacefully for once..." he unconsciously tightened his hold as if trying to keep his father's demons away by sheer force of will. "I wish I could do more. How will I go to sleep from now on, knowing that for my father is a time of horror and madness? How will my love be strong enough to keep him sane and whole?" He let out a helpless sob. "Force, help him! I know how much destruction he caused. I know how many innocent lives he took. I know first-hand what a monster he was, and I know it's _**too much**_ for it to ever be put aside as if it was of no consequence. But how will he accomplish his mission in this realm, if his very sanity is compromised? There must be a balance inside all of us or we will be forfeit." He cupped Anakin's head in his hand, cradling it as if it was a baby's. "Help him to find peace, or at the very least, a semblance of peace, enough for him to carry on. Please!" He bent forward and rested his forehead on his father's, closing his eyes in fervent prayer.

A vague feeling of vertigo and dizziness came over him, and he gave a little start, opening his eyes and moving back slightly.

Anakin's open eyes were looking back at him, just as surprised.

"W-what did you do?" the older man asked in a hoarse voice.

"I don't know," Luke replied, blinking in obvious confusion. "Did I do anything?"

"I felt as if... as if a soft breeze had brushed my soul," Anakin said, struggling to find the right words. "And it felt like _you_."

"Do you feel any different?" Luke asked, not knowing why.

Anakin blushed and looked down shyly.

"I feel loved, but I always feel loved when I'm with you, Son."

Luke felt his insides melting at the endearing sight and voice.

"I also feel more rested than ever, or so it seems to me," Anakin said, tilting his head to one side.

Luke arched his eyebrows.

"Maybe it's because you've had no more nightmares," he suggested.

Anakin just stared at him knowingly.

"Seriously, Father, I _don't_ know what happened," Luke insisted. "I felt a bit dizzy when I closed my eyes, but that was all."

"You changed something inside me. You... passed on something to me. I can feel it," Anakin said, the sweet warmth inside him fading away oh-so-slowly.

"Maybe it's something you needed, or will need in the future. Or maybe it's just..."

"Whatever it is you did for me, we'll find out in its own good time," Anakin smiled at his son, reaching out and holding his cheek in his palm. "Thank you, Luke. I wish I could find the words to tell you... Forgive me if I'm a burden sometimes. I just..."

Luke put up his own hand and covered his father's.

"Don't you _ever_ call yourself a burden!" he exclaimed, outraged. "Do you have any idea how my life would be if I didn't have you? I would be lost, and lonely, and missing you with every beat of my heart! A big part of me would have died with you. You are my strength, and it means everything to me to know that I can comfort you when you need me; that I can give back a portion of what you give me just being here, with me."

Overwhelmed beyond words, Anakin held his son's body to him for all he was worth. The young man returned the hug with more intensity and need than he thought possible.

'_I love you!'_ both minds cried out.

They remained in each other's arms until it didn't hurt to let go. Then, swallowing the lumps in their throats, they moved back and looked into each other's eyes.

"Ready to face the day, General?" Luke asked with a playful wink.

"Ready, sir," Anakin replied formally, winking back.

Laughing out loud, Luke waited until his father moved off him to get up. He stretched luxuriously.

"Oh, no!" Anakin exclaimed from the other side of the bed.

The pain and loss in his voice brought Luke to his side at the double.

Anakin was looking down at his Alderanian sculpture on the floor, broken into a few dozen pieces.

"Oh, Father! I'm so sorry!" Luke squeezed his father's shoulder, in a useless attempt to comfort him.

"I must have knocked it over last night. When I woke up I couldn't remember where I was. I couldn't even remember where the lights were. I began fumbling around in the dark and I remember now I heard a loud crash." Anakin looked at the irreplaceable work of art on the floor, totally devastated. The unique piece of work from a world that didn't exist anymore, and he felt as if he had destroyed it all over again.

Knowing only too well what was crossing his Father's mind and heart, Luke squatted down and began picking up the pieces with the utmost care.

"Maybe it can be fixed," he offered. "It broke in a lot of pieces, but it didn't shatter."

Anakin squatted down too beside his son. He picked up a small piece and held it in his palm reverently.

Artoo rolled up to them and beeped soothingly at Anakin.

Luke went to his father's closet and returned with a medium-sized padded box. He began putting the pieces in it very carefully. A few seconds later, Anakin joined him.

"I think we've got them all, I don't see any more pieces. Do you?" Luke asked his father.

"No, this is the last," Anakin replied, looking at the now full box and sighing dejectedly.

Artoo beeped suddenly and rolled a couple metres, right beside the foot of the bed. He opened a hatch on his belly and extended his mechanical, pincer-like arm. He grabbed something the two humans had overlooked and handed it to Anakin.

It was undoubtedly a piece of the sculpture, but it had something attached to it. Anakin frowned and brought it closer to his eyes, studying it intently.

"What's that?" Luke asked, edging closer to his father.

Using his fingernail, Anakin removed the black, perfectly square object from the piece of the sculpture. It was one centimetre long, and half a centimetre thick.

The older Jedi's eyes opened like two saucers when he recognized it.

Beside him, Luke gasped out loud as he too, recognized the bugging device.

"Father..." he began.

'_Shhh, be quiet!'_ Anakin commanded, immediately resorting to mind-speech. _'Don't say a word! I think this model only records sounds, not images. Maybe we can fool whoever are listening into believing that we didn't find it.'_

Luke nodded slowly, trying to control his accelerated respiration and heartbeat.

'_Since it was _in_ the sculpture, it's logical to assume it only records sounds,'_ he pointed out.

Anakin nodded, smiling softly at his brilliant child. He placed the device on his bedside table gingerly, just where the sculpture had been.

"Just another piece," he said out loud, for the listeners' benefit. "I hope it can be fixed now."

'_There will have to be a thorough search of the entire building, including our private rooms. It is obvious that there will be others,'_ Luke suggested.

'_If we do this by the book, we might as well start talking out loud,'_ Anakin commented ironically.

'_You're right,'_ Luke admitted sadly. _'We'll have to do it ourselves, but very inconspicuously.'_

'_And pray that none of those devices records images too,'_ Anakin sighed mentally.

Father and son immediately looked at each other, realizing there could be other bugging devices in the room that _did_ record images. If that was so, their little charade would be useless, because they would have been discovered already.

In any case, they would need a detector to find them.

'_Maybe not,'_ Luke's mind touched his father's again. Both of them knew what the young man meant by that. They had reached a stage where not only words were unnecessary between them, but some bridge thoughts, as well. _'Maybe you could try that wondrous gift of yours to locate any other bugging devices in this room, and in all others, too. Think you can do it?'_

Anakin stared at his son with his mouth hanging open. It would have never occurred to him to try his gift out! Admiration poured out of him in waves.

'_I don't know if I can make use of my gift for that, but I'll most certainly try, my bright one,'_ he answered, his chest bursting with pride in his child.

Anakin stood up and began walking around his room, looking at every piece of furniture, picture, lamp and even the floor. He tried to concentrate on his feelings, as he had done in the Falcon. He scanned every corner of his quarters, and then he entered the bathroom.

Luke watched his father curiously, wondering what it felt like to have such a gift. All of them were so fortunate that Anakin had uncovered it just in time!

Then, Anakin came out of his bathroom and shook his head. Apparently, his search had been negative. There were no other bugging devices.

The two Jedi stood side by side, with Artoo beeping softly behind them, looking at their totally fortuitous discovery that represented a quantum leap in the conspiracy threatening the Republic.

'_I guess this will convince Mon Mothma that we _do_ have a traitor inside the Republic's very core.' _ Luke's eyes met his father's with a look of searing regret and betrayal. Something died inside him right then and there. Just like all of them, he had still clung to the impossibility that this could be an outside conspiracy.

'_Even worse.'_ Anakin's eyes were haunted. _'Remember who gave me this sculpture four months ago?'_

Luke's gaze turned inwards for a moment and a second later, his eyes almost popped out of their sockets. He brought up his hand and covered his own mouth, preventing himself from letting out the exclamation that fought to escape his chest.

'_But Father, that's purely circumstantial evidence!' _he tried to argue._ 'The fact that he gave you this sculpture doesn't mean he...'_ the young Jedi's mental voice trailed off, as his father's infinitely sad but understanding eyes looked at him compassionately. The possibility was next to zero, and they both knew it.

* * *

"Well, I guess that will be all for now, gentlebeings," Mon Mothma announced, putting an end to the morning's meet. "Thank you all for your contributions and ideas. We will meet again tomorrow morning at eleven hundred hours. It will be better to keep our meets daily, as long as this crisis lasts."

Everybody agreed with curt, sad nods, and stood up reluctantly. As usual, some gathered in small groups and left the Great Hall discussing the situation, and others stayed, talking about it among themselves.

Luke, Han and Vaughan gathered in a small group; Mon Mothma, Generals Rieekan, Ackbar and Madine in another; Captains Ylek and Thazzel and Lando in another; Anakin, Areen Worzzlek, Leia and General Dodonna in another; and Chewie and Wedge chatted animatedly in another, closer to the doors. Other members of Mon Mothma's staff, and members of the equipped team that had been assigned as Luke's personal escorts, stopped a moment to comment something to some of them and then left. Little by little, some members of the Government left, too.

Anakin nodded his head at his daughter, Areen Worzzlek and Dodonna, excusing himself, and approached his son's group. The three young men were engaged in a spirited discussion right behind him.

"Excuse me for interrupting, but I have something to ask you," he said, addressing Vaughan. "I think your family owns a restorer business, am I right?"

"Yes, my father and my uncles own the best restorer business of the entire galaxy," Vaughan nodded proudly. "If you broke something, I'll talk to them. They'll make a special price cut for you," he smiled teasingly.

"That's good to know," Anakin looked honestly relieved, "because what they'll have to restore, is something beyond price."

The sadness in Anakin's voice sobered Vaughan instantly.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Last night, fumbling in the dark, I knocked down my Alderanian sculpture." The older Jedi couldn't disguise the pain and regret in his voice.

"Oh, no! That priceless sculpture," Vaughan commiserated with Anakin. "I'm very sorry!"

"Me too," Anakin made a grimace. "It broke in a few dozen pieces, but it didn't shatter. If there is a chance that it can be restored, I want to try, never mind the price."

"If anyone can do it, my father and my uncles can," Vaughan reassured emphatically. "Don't worry. I'll contact them right away." He headed for the doors.

"The sculpture's in a padded box in my quarters. Want me to give it to you?" Anakin asked, raising his voice a little.

"Not now. I'll go pick it up later. See ya!" The doors closed behind the young man.

"Getting clumsy in your old age, huh?" Han ribbed Anakin.

"Very funny." Luke cast a reproachful look at his friend.

"Hey, kid, if I can't tease my friends, then whom?" Han smiled naughtily.

"Too right," Anakin said, placing one hand on his son's shoulder and the other on the Corellian's, and squeezing them both warmly. "And as far as I'm concerned, the day Mr. Solo stops teasing me, that will be the day I'll start worrying."

"I don't know if I'll ever forgive you for calling me Mister. That really hurt my feelings," Han frowned at the older Jedi.

Anakin laughed out loud.

"Bless your sense of humour, Han," he commended, gratefully. "Oh, well! I'm in dire need of some meditation. I had a restless night and it'll do me good before lunchtime."

"I'll go meditate with you, Father," Luke said. "Where will you be?" he asked his friend and his sister, as she joined them, after finishing her conversation with Areen Worzzlek and patting his arm in farewell.

"The mess, of course," Han replied, watching Chewie's hungry expression as he approached them with Lando and Wedge in tow. "We'll meet you there."

"And if you need us, we'll be in the Observation Hall," Luke indicated, referring to the huge room which his father, Leia and himself used to train.

"Okie-dokie." Han gave the two Jedi the thumb-up sign and a wink.

* * *

Very carefully, a dark shadow entered the Vice-President's quarters. The man beneath the brown cloak scanned the room, and his eyes settled on the padded box on the bedside table. A soft sigh escaped his lips.

With silent but now confident steps, he headed for the sleeping alcove and his gloved hands began searching the broken pieces of the Alderanian sculpture.

"I didn't think they'd send you personally, Areen," Mon Mothma's voice resounded in the chamber.

The cloaked figure gave a start and turned to the source of the voice.

Mon Mothma, Anakin and Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, Princess Leia and Chewbacca came out of their hiding places and surrounded the now cornered man, caught red-handed.

The President advanced with awesome dignity, until she was face to face with the man she had considered a brother for so long.

"It is a task more appropriate for a minion than the President's confidant and trusted friend." She pinned the now slightly trembling man under her stare. "But I guess that's your rightful place, not beside me, serving the New Republic."

Areen Worzzlek swallowed audibly.

"I won't bother asking you why. The reason is obvious. Obviously petty," she spat. "That old, ugly feeling called jealousy. You felt displaced by a man who's worth a billion times more than you, and conspired to destroy what took _us_ years to build up, and millions of innocent victims from both sides."

Areen's green eyes moved back and forth, from one accusing set of eyes to the next, his agitated respiration resounding in the chambers.

"Who else is involved, Areen?" The warm brown eyes flashed now with more anger than they had ever reflected. "Let's not waste any more time asking irrelevant questions, like why or what for. Time is precious and I don't want any more lives to be lost. Not even yours."

Areen's face reflected more panic than any of them had ever seen. He stepped back as if wanting to escape, but he bumped into Chewie's impressive bulk blocking his only way out. The Wookie's dangerous growl made every hair on his body stand on end.

"_How many_, Areen?" Mon Mothma demanded, raising her voice.

Beads of sweat rolled down the man's forehead and his teeth began chattering.

"WHO!" the President cried out, making him cringe.

A sudden feeling made Anakin look at the huge windows that afforded an impressive view of the capital. A small droid floated there, pointing a tiny infrared shaft at them.

"DOWN!" he yelled, grabbing his President and throwing himself to the floor with her.

Simultaneously, the doors opened and two members of Luke's personal escort burst in, blasters in hand. They opened fire.

Areen was the first to fall, as hell broke loose in a matter of seconds.

Igniting his lightsaber and jumping to his feet, Luke began deflecting blasts.

Anakin had other plans. Spurred by a memory from the past and making sure his President was safe on the floor, he jumped through the windows right after one of the deflected bolts unarmed the little droid.

"Father!" Leia cried out, seing Anakin latch onto the droid and disappearing from sight in the wink of an eye.

"Drop your weapons!" Lando ordered, barging into the Vice-President's quarters with Vaughan Worthwing and Wedge Antilles in tow, all of them also blasters in hand.

The two traitors froze, and a moment later they raised their hands in surrender.

"I said drop them!" Lando called.

The two men looked at each other knowingly and obeyed the General's order.

Something was amiss there, Luke could feel it in his blood as he turned off his lightsaber. It was too easy. He half-closed his eyes and reached out with the Force. His eyes were immediately drawn to the two men's mouths.

They had swallowed something.

"Poison! They're committing suicide!" he cried out, hurling himself at the nearest man, catching him in his arms as he fell. The other man just collapsed to the floor.

Instinctively, Luke called upon his healing gift, to no avail.

"Don't try, Luke," Lando said, after checking the second man's pulse on his neck. "They ingested SiKrah, don't you smell it?"

Sniffing softly, Luke recognized the acid smell of SiKrah, the most potent poison known to date. There was no antidote for it, and death was immediate. He bent his head over the dead body, offering a silent prayer for the two men.

Han knelt down beside his friend and squeezed his shoulder. He felt no compassion for the two traitors who'd tried to kill them all in such a cowardly fashion. But he respected and admired his friend's regard for all life, even as worthless as these.

"Areen! No, Areen!" Mon Mothma's anguished voice cried out.

The two friends rushed to their President's side, who cradled in her lap the head of a badly wounded Areen Worzzlek. He had been hit several times all over his torso. His eyes were closed and he didn't seem to breathe.

"Don't let him die. Please! Don't let him die!" she begged Luke, raising her tear-streaked face to the young Jedi in fervent plea.

Oblivious to the mayhem around her, Leia looked out of the smashed window, trying to calm down her wildly beating heart.

* * *

Anakin tried not to look down, as speeders flew past him at an impossible speed. He was hanging from the little droid, his cheeks all dragged back, hundreds of metres above the ground.

'_Don't look down. Don't look down,'_ he told himself like a mantra. _'You followed an impulse,_ now's _time to think. What would Obi-Wan do if he was in my place? Again?'_ he closed his eyes and concentrated on his feelings, shutting out the reality around him.

Then, it hit him. His newly-discovered gift.

Opening his eyes, he focused his attention on the droid, using the Force to try and change its programming, persuading it to take him back to the place it had been sent from.

A few seconds later, the little droid turned about. Anakin's eyes bulged when he realized they were returning to headquarters.

'_Of course,'_ he nodded to himself bitterly.

The droid was moving at top speed, and seeing they were about to crash against a huge window panel, Anakin summoned the Force to break it with an impressive kick, bursting into the Great Hall feet first.

He let go of the droid, his feet touching the carpeted floor with a dull sound. He drew out his lightsaber and ignited it defensively, just in case. He projected his senses, searching the room. It was empty. Turning off his weapon and attaching it to his belt, he grabbed a knitted centre-piece off one of the decorative tables in a corner, and wrapped it around the little droid. The only fingerprints on the droid would be his, he was almost positive, but if they didn't check it out, they would never know for sure.

* * *

The sun was setting when Anakin entered the Observation Hall. His eyes immediately turned to the huge windows and the impressive view of Coruscant's capital. It was a view that left him breathless. It always had and always would.

A tiny figure, looking out of the windows immediately drew his attention. Her drooping shoulders and her totally dejected stance broke his heart. He walked up to her and stopped one little step behind her. He ached to squeeze her shoulder, stroke her hair, _anything_. But even after so many months, he still was unsure of how to approach her, especially when she was so withdrawn into herself.

"Can I help you?" he simply asked.

"I wish you could," was the soft reply several seconds later. "But I'm afraid no one can. Not even myself, and that's the problem."

"Can I stay and keep you company?" the older Jedi almost begged.

Leia's head turned to him, and her lips formed a poignant smile.

"I'd like that," she said, looking back ahead.

They remained in silence, looking out of the window at the life unfolding all around them. Beings with their own problems, their own lives, coming and going, living and dying...

Anakin studied his child's profile, drinking in her lovely features, so much like her mother's. Her upturned nose; her long, wavy hair; her...

"It's so ironical." Her sudden words brought him out of his enraptured reverie.

"What?" he asked.

"Everything," she said with a shrug. "Us, life..."

"In relation to what?" Anakin found it difficult to follow his daughter's convoluted train of thought sometimes.

"Trust. In the end, everything comes down to that little word, doesn't it?"

"I guess it does," Anakin agreed, beginning to see what his child was talking about.

"I've known Areen since I was 17 years old. He was kind and loyal, and with a funny sense of humour. I always liked him. War brought us all together. We formed a strange little family, but a family nonetheless." She tilted her head to one side. "After I lost my adoptive father and most of the people I loved on Alderaan, they were all the 'family' I had left. We all clung to each other. If there was one thing we could count on, it was our absolute loyalty to the Alliance and one another. Nothing and no one could break that." She looked down and sighed. "After so many years, you take many things for granted. Your friends' loyalty is beyond question, and you automatically suspect anyone who dares to question that loyalty." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, opening them next. "People change, we all know that. It's a fact of life. But if people you've trusted with your life will betray you at the turn of a hat, then..."

"...who can you trust?" father and daughter said at the same time.

"I know there are no certainties in this life," Leia went on, letting it all out now that she had started, "but I feel like such a fool! I'm angry, and disappointed. I feel..."

"Betrayed." Anakin summed it up with just one word. "Your feelings have been hurt. The betrayal of someone deeply trusted is one of the hardest lessons anyone can learn in their lifetime. Especially because there's nothing to learn from such a lesson. You can only react to it either by shutting everybody out and never fully trusting anyone again, or by keeping an open heart, and risking being betrayed again. In the end, there are only two kinds of beings, I think. Those who choose to keep on trusting others despite everything, and those who choose to build up a barrier around their hearts and live a safer but more barren life. The question is, which path will you choose?"

Leia made an ironical face.

"There are many more questions than that."

"What questions?" Anakin asked curiously.

The Princess bit her lips, as if struggling with something inside her.

"Questions like: 'I trusted Areen and he betrayed us all. 'I refused to fully open my heart to you and you saved all our lives, proving that you have more integrity and you're far more trustworthy than all the judgmental, self-righteous... like me...'" she trailed off, looking away.

"Oh, Leia." Anakin's heart went out to his beloved daughter. Unable to help himself, he reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it with all the love in his soul. "I with... I just... I..."

"It is all right, Father," Leia reassured him softly, reaching up and squeezing his fingers in return. "That's why I was saying that no one can help me but myself. These questions have no answer. I have to learn to live with them without letting them interfere with my life."

"Yes," Anakin nodded. "But you're _not_ judgmental or self-righteous. You have your own convictions and beliefs, just like all of us. It's more difficult for you to come to terms with the grey areas of life. That's the way you are. But you're intelligent, and just, and loving, and a beautiful person." He inched closer to her instinctively. "In these past few months I've come to know you, and I love you, respect you and admire you for who you are, not only because you're my daughter. You'll let go of the barriers you've built up around your heart when you realize you don't need them anymore." He risked stroking her hair once. "Areen's betrayal was a temporary setback, but you know that there are people around you who will die before betraying you or hurting your feelings intentionally. Don't let one big and painful disappointment destroy your faith in others. Trust your feelings, reach out to the Force. It will give you balance and comfort."

Leia remained silent for some time, taking in everything her father had said. She nodded slowly to herself and continued looking out of the windows.

"Do you think Areen will recover?" she finally asked.

The older man let out a bitter sigh.

"I don't know. It's impossible to tell. Physically, he's completely healed, Luke made sure of that. There is no reason at all for him to be in a coma. There are no traces of poison in his system, there is no brain damage... it's as if he'd suffered such a severe trauma that he's shut himself out totally from the outside world. It's as if... as if he _didn't want to return_." Anakin rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to soothe the beginnings of a monumental headache. He had tried to meditate, but he was exhausted after spending hours by Areen's bedside, trying to reach his mind with every single technique he knew, after relieving an even more exhausted Luke.

"I've never seen you trying so hard." Leia turned to him and searched her father's drawn features. "How long have you been trying to bring him back?"

"Over three hours," was the dejected answer. "Maybe I should try again. The longer he stays in a coma the more unlikely his recovery will be."

"You don't know that," Leia pointed out. "Besides, Luke is the family's official healer, not you," she smiled at him compassionately.

"I know." The Jedi's voice was full of regret and pain. "But still..."

"Still what?" Leia asked, facing her father. "What's wrong?" She looked into his eyes.

Anakin looked away, swallowing the lump in his throat. He made a move, as if beginning to walk away.

Leia immediately reached out and grabbed his wrist.

"You feel guilty!" she exclaimed, as her father's emotions flooded her through the contact.

Anakin froze on the spot and looked at her with his eyes wide open.

"You feel guilty for Areen's betrayal," the Princess stated in complete astonishment. "Why?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Anakin replied, his voice full of bitterness. "I am the reason why he turned against the Republic."

"The reason why he turned against us is exclusively his own. Nobody forced him to do it," Leia said, adamantly.

"Nothing is that simple and you know it. I am the living example of that," Anakin reminded her. "You just said that he was a good, kind and loyal man. He undoubtedly felt that the principles the Alliance was founded on were betrayed when I was made Vice-President. Perhaps he thought he was serving a better cause..."

"A better cause, land-mines, bombs and ambushes in public parks? A better cause, the murdering of innocent civilians?" Leia almost cried out. "_Any_ cause that resorts to such tactics automatically loses all the credibility it could have. They're nothing but criminals and murderers! And you know it."

"Yes, I do," Anakin replied, walking away and collapsing on one of the soft leather floor cushions. He covered his face with his hands. "But I was also the reason why a good man went astray. I cannot forget that."

Leia contemplated the disconsolate figure and her heart swelled with tenderness for that man. She walked up to him and sat down beside him.

"Father, there are many reasons why a good person can go astray, but ultimately, it's their decision and no one else's," she told him in a soothing voice. "I know there are mitigating circumstances. There were in your case, and there are in Areen's. That's why it hurts so much. He's still a good, caring man. I felt it when I touched him this morning. But he allowed his feelings of envy, jealousy and resentment to dominate him and lead him in the wrong direction. That's what I don't understand. He refused to trust us. He chose to withdraw from us and join _them _instead, whoever they are." She looked away with a pensive expression. "You think you know someone, and after so many years..." She shook her head with a sigh. "You mustn't blame yourself for all the bad things that happen around you, even if you were the catalyst. You're not responsible for other people's choices. You can only try to do the right thing and never hurt others intentionally, as you so told me a moment ago. There is no perfect solution for every problem. There are too many factors and variables at work most of the time."

"I know, Leia. I know that in my head, but my heart tells me different." Anakin ground his teeth.

"What does your heart tell you?"

Anakin's head snapped up and looked at his daughter with utter surprise in his eyes at the eerily familiar way she had phrased her question. He blinked a few times and pulled himself together.

"It tells me that sometimes, with our best intention we can cause a lot of harm. It tells me that despite your feelings for me, everything would have turned out better if I had died on the Death Star. At least, you would have been spared this threat." He looked down and his shoulders sagged in defeat.

Leia pursed her lips, trying to control her sudden anger. She knew her father couldn't help feeling the way he did, and that calmed her down somewhat.

"First," she said in a clipped voice, "you don't know that for sure. We still don't know the true nature of this threat, and quite probably, it would have arisen anyway, whether you'd survived or not. And second, how dare you say that everything would have been better if you had died? Are you a total moron or what?"

Anakin looked up at her, shocked at her words.

"Can you look at me in the eyes, and tell me that you honestly believe that our lives would be better if you had remained dead? That Luke would have been able to smile again the way he does every time he looks at you, so full of pride and love? Do you think that Luke and I would live fuller and happier lives without you? Not to mention Han, Lando, Chewie, and the entire Red Squadron, who admire you and respect you as if you were the coolest thing on two legs."

Anakin smiled sadly.

"You would have found a way, somehow. No one's irreplaceable."

"No, but some are more irreplaceable than others. We'd have found a way, yes. But not the _best_ way possible. Luke would be a great Jedi. He would have trained me right. The Republic would still be strong and just. But something would have been missing. Something only you could give us all. _Yourself_." Her stare intensified. "Your wisdom, your life experiences, your compassion, your understanding, your insight... everything that you are. There is a difference between good and best, and you make that difference, Father." Leia reached out and rested a hand on Anakin's shoulder. "Don't you see? You bring out the best in all of us."

"I brought out the worst in Areen," Anakin reminded them both, tears streaming quietly down his cheeks.

"Because he allowed it to. The difference lies in the way he allowed his feelings to be twisted and corrupted, instead of bothering to see how upright and decent you are now. Instead of accepting his role in the New Republic, he chose to believe he had been displaced and you were responsible for it. It's no one's fault but Areen's." Leia's voice trembled with emotion as she wiped away the tears on her father's face. "Our good deeds don't always spawn good deeds, but it doesn't have anything to do with us."

Anakin sniffled and took a deep, shaky breath.

"I know you're right, but..."

"If you still think that our lives would be better without you, you only have to look at Luke and me," Leia went on relentlessly, determined to help her father out of his defeatist mood. "Look at the way we've grown and matured these past months. How much we've changed, for the better. Especially me. I consented to start training, and that's a miracle in itself. You've taught me about my own prejudices, that were blinding me to a higher truth. I'm still halfway, but I'm trying. With your help and Luke's, one day I'll be that which I'm meant to be." Her face illuminated. "And Luke... he would be lost without you. He'd have looked for you in everything and everyone, wherever he went. He'd never have been able to reach his full potential, as a Jedi and as a person. He'd have been miserable and empty for the rest of his life." She smiled lovingly. "And the same goes for you, Father. Luke's giving you everything you need to reach your full potential. The sight of the two of you together is awe-inspiring. You bring out the best in each other." Her look turned inwards and her voice dropped an octave. "Luke's not the greatest Jedi ever and neither are you. The two of you _are_ the greatest Jedi ever."

"Oh, Force!" Anakin exclaimed, devastated by his daughter's words and the dawning truth in them.

"You give each other something that neither of you would be able to accomplish on your own. You bring out the best in me and in all those around you who care to see. If some can't see it..." she shrugged, "...well, their loss!"

Anakin bit his lower lip. His daughter's fierce defence of him rocked him to his very soul.

"I also think there are two types of beings," Leia smiled somewhat playfully. "Those who blame themselves for every disaster that happens around them, and those who believe that they're not responsible for anything, and it's the others' fault. Truth has got to be somewhere in the middle. Still, most of us tend to one side of the spectrum or the other, and we spend our entire lives looking for the perfect balance."

"You and your brother are my perfect balance," Anakin whispered from the bottom of his heart. "You are everything to me..."

Leia blushed and looked away shyly.

"...and I pray that one day I can give you even half of what you give me day after day, just by letting me be a part of your lives, by letting me love you, and allowing me to try and make up for my crimes. My unforgivable crimes..." he choked on his words.

Leia turned her head and looked at her father, full of compassion.

"You're doing much good, Father. You've touched thousands of lives and saved hundreds by now. The past cannot be changed, but you can change the present and the future, and you will. For the best."

Anakin's blue eyes bored into his daughter's and Leia smiled back at him.

"Bless you for saying that. It helps so much!" he said, with an infinitely grateful smile.

"It helped me too," Leia admitted, taking a deep breath. "My conflicted feelings are still there, but I think I'll be able to cope with them better now. It felt good letting it all out and getting your insight. I guess it's useless to struggle with what it is, isn't it?"

"Quite," Anakin nodded, raising an ironical eyebrow. "But even if we can't change it, talking about it with those who care truly helps."

Leia looked down.

"Yes, it does. A lot," she agreed, keeping silent for a moment, lost in her own musings. "So," she said, coming out of her short reverie, "what do you wanna do now?"

Anakin rolled his eyes a bit, apologizing in advance for what he was going to say.

"Illogical as it may seem, I want to visit Areen again. I know there is nothing I can do, but I want to keep trying. I need it."

Leia nodded in understanding and squeezed her father's shoulder.

"I know what you mean," she smiled softly. "Thank you for your help, Father."

Anakin's gaze turned to the huge city outside. The sun had already set.

"Ah, Leia," he said with soft, dreamy eyes, "thank _you_ for letting me tryand help." His eyes settled on his daughter, adoringly. "It was..." he stiffened and his head immediately tilted to one side, as if listening to some inner voice.

"What is it?" Leia asked.

"Your brother needs me," Anakin said, standing up.

"Is he all right?" Leia got immediately serious.

"Yes. He's having a nightmare," Anakin reassured her, heading for the door. "Later!" He waved his hand good-bye, striding out of the Hall.

Leia shook her head with a smile. There was nothing more endearing to her than her father entering "Big Papa" mode. She felt a momentary pang of sadness in her heart, that also had a suspicious tinge of jealousy. But it was all her fault and she knew it. Anakin was _desperate_ to have an equally loving relationship with both his children. It was she who still wasn't prepared to fully open her heart to him. Her fist hit the floor cushion where she was sitting in sheer frustration, and her upper body slumped in defeat.

She still needed more time, that was obvious. She had to accept it and be patient.

There were moments... there were moments when she ached to wrap her arms around her father. Those sweet and gentle blue eyes broke her heart. She had been about to hold him a while ago, at the sight of the tears rolling down his face. But every time she began to reach out, she saw Darth Vader's mask looming over her as he 'interrogated' her in the first Death Star, or she had flashbacks of a badly tortured Han on Bespin, or a battered and mutilated Luke, and something inside her froze. She wanted to learn to see past those terrible episodes of her life. But those episodes, among others, had made her the person she was today. She couldn't change that.

Even so, the shy, almost fearful touch of his hand on her hair, his warm hand on her shoulder, the searing love and regret that poured out of him every time she touched him... Oh, how she prayed for a day to come when her heart finally came to a decision about this conflict!

She had to let Destiny take its course. She had gone a long way already. One day, there would be peace inside her, and she would be free of this pointless need to hold back in front of a man who would rather die than cause them all a second's pain or unhappiness.

She looked at the closed doors and rose to her feet. She needed her beloved's arms around her, reassuring her that everything would be all right.

She had indeed gone a long way. Now she could allow herself the freedom to be vulnerable around those she loved, knowing that it wouldn't make her weak and they wouldn't be put off. Quite the contrary, they would welcome her with open arms, loving words and a warm and soothing heart.

* * *

It was hot, very hot. He tried to breathe through the suffocating heat. It was all around him. No, not quite. It was around him, but also inside him. He burned. He struggled to open his eyes, but his eyesight was blurry. He made out the forms of people herded around him, and he recognized them by sheer instinct rather than by what his eyes could see. His father, Han, Leia, Lando, Chewie... and he could faintly hear Artoo's beeping sounds in the background.

He was afraid. Terrified. He had never been so frightened in his entire life, but he knew he had to be strong for some reason. He blinked hard, needing desperately to see their faces.

It was so hot! And he couldn't breathe. He opened his mouth, trying to take a deep intake of breath, but it was useless. He wanted to cry out, to say something, but he couldn't.

And then, the unfocused faces looming above him disappeared, and he was in flames. He tried to grasp the tiniest ray of sanity he had left, but it was hopeless. He was losing it, losing it...

"NOOO!" He cried out, sitting up on his bed with a brutal jerk. His hand fumbled in the dark, found the lights and turned them on with a slap.

He was bathed in sweat, trembling from head to foot, and he buried his face in his hands, unable to hold back the racking sobs exploding from him.

He felt a rush of air beside him and the weight of something hollowing the bed. Without thinking, he reached out and clung to it; to _him_.

Long, strong arms brought him close and held him in a crushing embrace. He felt small and insignificant, as if anything could hurt him. But he was safe now, as long as he had those arms wrapped around him.

"Oh, Father!" he moaned in between gasps.

"I am here. I'm right here, little one," replied the gentlest voice, so full of love that he almost forgot why he was so terrified. "Hold on to me. It will pass. It's going to pass now, you'll see. Shhhhh." Hands stroked his back up and down soothingly. The body he was clinging to began a slow rocking motion, and he surrendered to it like a baby depending on his parent's strength to survive. Fingers slid through his soaked, dishevelled hair, massaging his pounding scalp and easing the splitting headache.

Luke's own body followed blindly the rhythm of his father's rocking motions, and an overwhelming sense of peace suffused his being. He swallowed hard.

"Please, don't let me go," he begged with urgent, raw need.

"Never," was the impassioned answer. Anakin's lips kissed the top of his head.

Luke returned the embrace for all he was worth, burying his face in his father's chest, wanting to disappear there. This was the only place in the universe where he was truly safe. Where no evil could touch him. And yet... some terrifying knowledge lurked right at the edge of his consciousness, as if trying to warn him, to force him to see...

He recoiled from that shadow and sought refuge in his father's arms. No. No! He wasn't ready for it...

"Easy, easy," Anakin murmured, rubbing his child's tense shoulders. His son's body felt about to snap, so unbelievably rigid it was. "Nothing will harm you for as long as I live. Shhh, shhhh..."

They both knew it was a lie. No one could keep their loved ones from all harm. But the promise of it was so comforting, that they suspended disbelief for these blissful moments when it _seemed_ possible.

Several minutes passed thus, with Luke trembling like a leaf and his father all wrapped around him. Finally, Anakin felt Luke's body relaxing a little and his mind opening up to him.

"Can you talk about it?" he asked with a last kiss on his child's forehead.

Luke pressed up against him one last desperate time, before swallowing the lump in his throat.

"I-it was hot. All around and inside me. And I couldn't see clearly," he explained, his voice muffled against Anakin's chest. "I think you were there. And Leia, and Han and Lando, and Chewie and perhaps Artoo... but I'm not sure. Everything was so unclear... And I was slipping somehow. I was losing my mind in a burst of flames. I was burning!" He brought one hand around and grabbed a handful of the front of his father's top, burying his face in it again.

"Shhhhhh," Anakin held him tight once more.

"What is this? What does it mean?" Luke moaned in anguish.

"Dreams don't have to mean something necessarily," Anakin pointed out candidly. "Most of the time, they're projections from our subconscious that we mix up with fragments of events that happened in our waking lives."

"This one looked like it _should_ mean something. It was too vivid," Luke insisted. "It felt as if it _was_ real."

"All dreams, and especially nightmares, feel like they _are_ real. That's why they scare us so much," Anakin smiled, his fingers combing through the wet strands of blond hair. "I could write a study of it." He made an ironical face.

"Then, is that all it was?" Luke asked, looking up at his father trustingly, like a little boy.

"Only you can tell," the older Jedi looked down at his son, deadly serious all of a sudden, their eyes meeting in shared understanding. "Personally, I think your mind made it all up, throwing in some pieces of the nightmare I had last night."

Luke looked away, his mouth open wide, realizing it just then. He nodded absently.

"I had forgotten about your nightmare." His body sagged against his father's in sheer relief.

And still, something kept nagging at him. Something he should figure out...

"I've had this nightmare before," he uttered, almost in a trance, his muscles tensing a little again. "Several times. Recently. But I forgot about it after waking up."

"Recurring nightmares are very common," Anakin said, moving a stray lock of hair away from his child's forehead. "From my own personal experience, I can tell you that if they're visions of the future, you just _know_. If not, they're just that. Nightmares."

"I've had those visions before and I know what you mean," Luke nodded. "But this one had something to it that was too scary to contemplate." He shuddered helplessly again and sought his father's warmth. "Are these visions literal or metaphorical?" He raised his eyes and met his father's in silent question.

"Mine have always been literal," Anakin replied, paling a bit and wrapping his arms around his son's body as a reflex action.

"Mine too," Luke nodded, cuddling up to his father's strength like a cub. "And always about terrible events."

"Just like mine." A shiver ran up and down the older Jedi's spine. "But let's not think about that now. If it was a premonition, you would know. Try to go back to sleep, my son. Everything will be all right."

"I find that hard to believe, after what happened today," Luke replied, with uncharacteristic despondency.

"I know," Anakin sobered, the pain in his heart returning at the thought of Areen's betrayal. "I talked to your sister about it and she helped me a great deal."

"That's good," Luke smiled happily. It filled his soul with joy to see how the rift between his father and his sister was slowly closing. He had decided not to interfere and let things happen in their own good time. It was working.

Anakin smiled hopefully and they maintained a companionable silence for a little while.

"I tried to heal him, but..." Luke said, out of the blue.

"I know." Anakin's attention focused on easing his child's guilty feelings. "Don't blame yourself for something that is beyond your ability to heal. There must be a reason why Areen's not coming back. Keep the faith. Trust the Force."

"I saw you trying, too. For hours," Luke said softly.

Anakin made a self-deprecating face and looked away.

"I know there is nothing I can do. But I _had_ to try, even if it was useless."

"I understand." Luke held Anakin's hand and squeezed it, pressing their palms together. To the older man, it felt as if his child's life-giving hand was blessing his own sterile, useless flesh.

"Go to sleep now, Father. I will be all right."

Anakin was reluctant to comply with his son's wishes. But Luke had a right to his independence. He wasn't a child who needed his father to stay by his bedside, until he fell asleep again after having a nightmare. Never mind how close their relationship was, those times were gone for good. Times he had missed and would never return.

Anakin nodded bitterly, burying the poignant pain deep in his heart, and stood up after mussing up his child's hair.

"Sweet dreams, my son," he smiled down at his offspring, unable to resist tucking him up.

Luke grabbed the nearest hand.

"Sweet dreams, you too. Love you." His gentle blue eyes shone.

Anakin's heart flip-flopped in his chest at the naturalness with which Luke uttered those words. His son's love. Something that couldn't be coerced or bought, freely given from that pure and innocent heart. He didn't know what had he ever done to deserve it, but it _was_ his. The trembling Jedi wrapped that love around his own needy heart, holding it to his soul, a treasure beyond compare.

"My beautiful little boy," he whispered, the words leaving his lips before he could stop them. He turned on his heels and left his child's room.

* * *

His consciousness surfaced from the depths of slumber. As he did every single morning, he waited a few seconds until he was fully awake. Then, he opened his eyes slowly. Tiny shafts of light filtered through the blinders, and he concentrated on them, until he willed them open through the Force. Shining light fell directly on him, and he smiled luxuriously at the feel of the sun warming his skin and filling his body with invigorating vitality.

Now, it was time to sit up cross-legged on his bed and meditate. But for some reason, he felt uncharacteristically lazy this morning. He turned onto his left side, grabbed one pillow and hugged it to his face, looking out of the huge windows.

Coruscant never rested. Life hurried at a manic speed on the other side of the windows, with ships and speeders flowing in every direction, busy and noisy, in a colourful testimony to life, to a cycle with no beginning and no end.

That was life, fortunately for them all. Some went and some stayed. Parents died but children lived, and when children became parents in their turn, they left too, leaving behind them a better world (if they were clever enough) for their own children to enjoy and improve in their turn.

The circle of life.

He sighed, feeling strangely at peace that morning. He would die one day, but his children would live. The best part of him. They'd have learnt from their faulty father's mistakes, and they would be wise and kind. They would use their own gifts to make their neighbours' lives easier. They would fight for justice and what was right and...

Anakin's wandering mind put the brakes on all of a sudden. There was something there, something about his musings that was worth reconsidering. Something that was a key, a vital key...

Anakin let go of his pillow and turned onto his back, studying the ceiling as he struggled to concentrate.

What was his subconscious trying to tell him?

He reached for the Force, looking for clues.

There was something about... Leia. His precious daughter. Something about... yesterday's conversation with her, that made him prick up his ears as she said it, but he had forgotten about as their talk progressed.

Anakin relived it, unable to help smiling at his mental picture of her. She reminded him so much of her mother! That long, soft brown hair; that upturned nose; those kind and lively eyes, so full of strength and determination, but so upright and honest at the same time... when she wore her heart on her sleeve, he could hardly restrain himself from crushing her to his chest. But he had to hold back. She still wasn't ready to welcome his embrace, and it would break his heart beyond repair to feel her rejection.

But he was digressing, as he always did every time he thought of his children. His beautiful, bright and perfect...

No, not again. He had to concentrate and think of their conversation. Of all the things she had admitted. That was where his instinct was leading him. Her feelings of betrayal, disappointment and sadness. Oh, how he wished to be able to help her! To take those feelings away and replace them with the promise of a better, more honest reality, where people meant what they said and the others didn't have to guess whether they were lying or telling the truth; or, if they were Force-sensitive, resort to...

He sat up on his bed with a brutal start.

THAT WAS *IT*!

It had been right before their eyes all this time and they had missed it! The perfect solution, a clean and unbelievably simple way to find out who the traitors were. It was no wonder none of them had thought about it sooner. Most of the time, the things in plain sight are the most difficult to see.

He fell back on his bed, and burst out laughing.

Children indeed were the hope for the future!

* * *

"If that is all, gentlebeings, this meeting is adjourned."

Mon Mothma seemed to have aged ten years overnight. Areen's betrayal had hit too hard, and she doubted she would ever recover completely. She tried not to look at the empty seat beside her, and at the even greater hole in her heart. She was on autopilot, carrying on with her duties. Hopefully, there would be a quantum leap in the investigation of these terrorist attacks very soon, she had to hold on to that. There was a whole galaxy to protect, and her personal problems and feelings meant nothing compared to the higher scheme of things.

"Well, not quite, your Excellency," Anakin intervened, before anyone could stand up. He looked at his family and friends for a moment, asking their consent for what he was about to do, which they gave with sharp nods. "We have an annoucement to make. It has to do with the reason why we arrived late to this meeting." His eyes sparkled with more joy that he could contain.

"What announcement?" the President asked, feeling a tiny ray of hope making its way through her broken heart, in spite of everything. Something in Anakin's smile felt like a promise. Of what, she didn't dare to guess.

"In the middle of so much disappointment and gloom, we would like to share with you a piece of news that, even if it's got nothing to do with our current situation, and won't shed any light on the investigation, is a promise of a brighter future for us all, besides it being an indescribable joy and source of delight for me personally." The Jedi's eyes sparkled with untold happiness.

"Well, what is it?" Mon Mothma asked excitedly, despite herself.

Exchanging a last look with his family, Anakin took a deep breath, his chest bursting with pride.

"It is my honour to announce my daughter's engagement to General Solo."

There was a moment of shocked silence in the Hall, as everybody absorbed this totally unexpected news. But a few heartbeats later, the whole room exploded into exclamations of heartfelt congratulations to the couple, their family and their friends. Han and Leia were forced to stand up and shake everybody's hands, as they babbled clumsy words of gratitude in the spontaneous madness of the moment.

* * *

The news spread like wildfire and before lunchtime, Han and Leia's hands were sore after shaking the hands of the entire Red Squadron, Luke's personal escorts and dozens of people they didn't even know.

Luke, and most especially Anakin, couldn't hold back the overwhelming happiness bubbling in their hearts. Anakin felt giddy. A mere year ago, he didn't even know he had a daughter, he was a willing slave of the Dark Side, and he had nothing to look forward to in his life, except for his ambitions of power and greed that had diluted over time. Now, he was a loving and devoted father, and his little girl was engaged to the best man he could possibly imagine, who was like a second son to him.

Blinking hard to get rid of the moisture filling his eyes, he turned his head when he felt the soft brush of his son's fingers touching his own. Luke's eyes were misty too, but they were smiling up at him, his beautiful face shining with so much joy that Anakin's heart sang.

But they couldn't ignore the threat looming over them. Any or several of the smiling people shaking hands with his daughter and his soon-to-be son-in-law, could be conspiring at this very moment to bring down the New Republic, and get rid of them along with it. Yesterday had revealed two traitors in the crack team assigned to ensure Luke's security.

_Anyone_ could be involved. That was the only, bitter truth they could count on.

The older Jedi tried to keep his mind from dwelling on the justified feeling of helplessness and betrayal settling in his chest. They couldn't allow it to prevent them from trusting people's innate goodness and integrity. Most beings in the universe were good and honourable, and tried to abide by what was morally right. They couldn't let these terribly painful acts of treachery to take away their faith in people.

Thank heavens, they had a winning card at their disposal. The Light.

The Light had ultimately defeated Darth Vader and Palpatine. Nothing and no one could stand against it. Against Love. Against their sense of belonging and determination to keep the galaxy and those they loved safe. There was no stronger instinct. They would prevail.

It was poetically fitting that it was Leia who unmasked the traitors lurking in the Republic's very core, using it to overthrow it from within, much like Palpatine had done almost a quarter of a century earlier. She was unveiling them one by one just now, just by shaking their hands and following her empathy gift. It was so beautifully simple he couldn't stop smiling.

As a young man, he'd have considered this resolution as a sort of anticlimactic one. But two decades later, he'd had enough of fighting and battling, and maiming and death. This was a clean and smooth way to spot and later bring the traitors before justice, without shedding any needless blood.

Intelligence over mindless violence. Just perfect.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	7. Chapter 7

Captain Ylek was sitting at his computer when his door chime buzzed. He quickly entered his personal password and encrypted the file he was working on, before switching off his computer.

"Come in," he called, standing up to receive his guest.

The door opened and Mon Mothma, followed by Anakin Skywalker and two security guards entered his quarters.

"Mrs. President," he greeted her politely. "And company," he nodded his head to the other visitors. "To what do I owe the honour of your visit?"

Mon Mothma answered with a feral smile.

"We have come to ask you to please let us search your quarters. Including your computer."

The bland expression on the Twi'lek's face gave way to one of shock.

"And what do you expect to find here?" he asked.

"Evidences of high treason."

"Excuse me?" The green eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

"Please, Captain, save us your performance," Mon Mothma cut off, raising her hand as if she was dismissing a child's attempt to deny he had been caught red-handed with both hands in the cookie jar. "We _know_ you are involved beyond any reasonable doubt. So, if you will be so kind as to take a seat and make yourself comfortable, these two security guards will search your quarters, and Artoo will take care of your computer."

She moved aside, and the little blue droid rolled in. He stopped by the terminal and plugged in his computer arm. A few seconds later, he let out a very revealing whistle, that let everybody know he had found something.

Anakin activated the computer screen and searched through the files Artoo was decrypting. Some time later, his big body stiffened. He swivelled around slowly in the chair and faced the immediately paling Twi'lek. The Jedi's features were contorted with hatred and anger. Anger that was only a heartbeat away from being released.

"So, my son's X-Wing was your next target," he hissed. His nostrils flared and he bared his teeth. "A little short-circuit that would make the fuel tanks of his ship blow up. And 'good riddance,' in your own words."

"ANAKIN!" Mon Mothma cried out.

Anakin blinked, to find himself on his feet and reaching for the recoiling man with a clawed hand. His President's hand was on his chest, restraining him with only the power of her authority. And it was enough. He swallowed hard several times, forcing his runaway emotions in check once again. He reached for the Light with fast and deep intakes of breath.

"I apologize for my lack of control," he uttered breathlessly.

"It is quite understandable." Mon Mothma put down her hand, seeing it wasn't necessary anymore. "I don't know what would I do if I found out that some bastard had been plotting my child's assassination." She turned to the now emotionless face of the Twi'lek, not bothering to hide all the sickness and contempt she felt. "Take him away," she told one of the security guards. "He will be the first of several."

When the doors closed after Captain Ylek and the security guard, Anakin collapsed on the chair. He buried his face in his hands and let out a dry laugh, a soft tremor enveloping his body.

"And to think _I_ recommended him to you when we formed a government," he shook his head, amazed at his stupidity.

"Just as I recommended my Security Chief, who's being arrested just now."

Anakin bit his lower lip, shaking his head non-stop in total disbelief.

"Force, there are traitors _everywhere_!" he exclaimed, unable to believe the sequence of events unfolding at that very moment. Things were happening faster than his brain could process. "I will never learn," he muttered to himself in sheer dejection.

"I could say the same thing," Mon Mothma pointed out. "But I will not. I won't allow a bunch of traitors to undermine my trust in people. I'd rather be overconfident than distrustful of everyone."

Anakin kept worrying his lower lip for a while, pondering the wisdom of his President's words. He ended up nodding, in heartfelt agreement.

"Yes, you're right. I know I shouldn't be like this. But it's in my nature." He looked at the computer screen. "The mere thought of someone, anyone, conspiring to commit murder in such cold-blood... It's so inhuman, so against every moral... Oh, my son!" he closed his eyes tight, shivering to his very core.

"I know. I know, my friend." Mon Mothma reached out and squeezed the tense shoulder affectionately. "Life will never stop teaching us painful lessons. But it is up to us how to take those lessons. Either for the best... or the worst." She smiled down at the vulnerably bent head. "But there is still much goodness and love in the galaxy. We mustn't forget that. You're keeping my faith in goodness, Anakin. I don't know what would I do without you; especially now, after Areen."

The choked voice made the Jedi master look up and see the misty eyes of his President. No, not his President right now. Just a friend in need of comforting. He smiled up softly at her and held the smaller hand on his shoulder.

"It is too late for Captain Ylek, but not for Areen. Leia saw it." His gaze turned introspective. "I think that's the reason why he's not returning. At sometime, he must have realized he had made the biggest mistake of his life, but he was too far gone to trust us, and show us to what extent he had allowed his feelings of resentment and jealousy to twist his perception of others, and to what they had led him to. He probably thought we would never trust him again." He shook his head, amazed at his own level of understanding. "He was caught between a rock and a hard place. And he still is, wherever he is."

Mon Mothma blinked several times, in awe at so much wisdom.

"How did you get so wise?" she asked, with more than a bit of self-deprecation.

Anakin smiled ironically.

"Been there, done that. And it took me over twenty years and a certain blond-haired young man to make me see there is always a chance, for all of us. I only had to believe I deserved that chance... and forgive myself. And _that_ is the hardest part. It always was." He sighed, feeling old and weary. "It was my inability to forgive myself 23 years ago that convinced me I was beyond redemption. And when you think there is no absolution possible from your crimes, you only sink deeper into your own infamy. You glory and relish your crimes, _that much_ you hate yourself." Quiet tears ran down his face. "I will never believe I deserve forgiveness. It was Luke's love for me, despite everything I had done, that made me see things differently. If my son could still forgive me, perhaps I could try to forgive myself; or at least, try to live with the weight of my crimes and not degrade myself any more."

Mon Mothma's fingers slid through her Vice-President's hair, in a lovingly maternal caress.

"I will never thank your son enough for turning you back. This galaxy needs you far more than we know," she said, solemnly.

"I wish I could compensate you all for everything I did. But I can't. I never will." Anakin stared at the wall with unblinking eyes. "My past will catch up with me one day, and then... everything will be over." He sighed again. "I pray that the day that happens, my children and everyone else will be spared."

"Don't think that way," Mon Mothma whispered, kneading the back of his neck. "Don't let this situation break you. We need your strength and your insight, now more than ever."

Soft beeping and whistling made them look at the little droid. Artoo rolled up to Anakin and let out some soothing sounds of support and caring.

The older Jedi smiled bitterly and placed his hand on the droid's dome, patting it affectionately.

"You're biased, Artoo. The fact that you've known me since I was nine years old has clouded your judgement."

The next raspberry sounds resembled offensive tones too much, if not outright rudeness. Anakin ended up laughing despite himself.

"All right, you made your point." He put aside his impractical feelings of self-pity and stood up. "Did you collect all the evidences here?"

Artoo beeped assent.

Anakin turned to his President and bowed his head courteously.

"Shall we, my friend?" his blue eyes shone with gratitude and affection.

Mon Mothma smiled fondly and nodded.

* * *

Captain Ylek entered the Great Hall, escorted by heavily armed guards. He calmly took a seat, facing his questioners, who happened to be his former associates in the government.

Everybody stood up formally.

"The meeting to question former Captain Ylek, ex-member of the Senate and the New Republic, is opened," Mon Mothma declared ceremoniously.

"I want it to be noted that I don't recognize this Council's authority to question me," Ylek spat, his voice oozing hatred.

"Your objection will go on record," the President replied coldly.

All members of the Council took their seats as one, staring at the man who had been their ally for over six months, who now appeared before them as a total stranger.

The moment the members of the Council took their seats, Ylek stood up, in a blatant gesture of provocation.

"You may stand, if you so wish," Mon Mothma's voice was full of disdain, as if addressing a rebellious child. "This isn't going to be a real questioning, anyway. We all know very well where we stand, and thankfully, we have been able to arrest most of those involved in this conspiracy to bring down the Republic. We know everything we needed to know."

The corner of Ylek's mouth twitched in a lopsided, nasty grin, and Anakin's blood ran cold in his veins.

"As you can imagine, I won't answer any questions that incriminate me," he said.

"You don't have to. The evidence against all of you is overwhelming. You will be locked up for a very long time. Probably for life, if you don't open your eyes to the wrongness of your ways," Mon Mothma's words came strong and assured.

"I fail to understand what am I doing here, then." Ylek squared his shoulders.

"You are here to try and explain what prompted you to turn against every law and moral across the galaxy. What did you expect to gain? Do you condone indiscriminate slaughter to vindicate... whatever you're trying to vindicate?" Mon Mothma's face reddened in outrage.

"And why do you presume to be the keepers and bearers of all morality and goodness in the galaxy," Ylek's voice was full of venom, "when you made the biggest butcher in the known universe your Vice-President?"

"And you expressed your disagreement with our decision by risking innocent lives on Veltra, killing Lieutenant Dobson and a married couple? Planting land-mines where anyone could step? Trying to blow up the Millennium Falcon and Captain Skywalker's X-Wing?" Mon Mothma's eyes flashed with barely controlled anger. "You're nothing but a bunch of ordinary terrorists. Don't come up with stock excuses, for that's exactly what they are. Excuses to commit mass murder."

"I didn't admit to being a part of this so-called conspiracy, your Excellency," Ylek reminded her mockingly. "I am merely humouring you for the sake of discussion."

"Why you...!" Mon Mothma reached the limit of her endurance for the first time in her life.

"Excuse me, Mrs. President," Luke Skywalker spoke for the first time, rising to his feet. He looked at Mon Mothma and bowed his head, asking her permission politely. Then, he exchanged the fastest look with his father. "I am personally interested in this 'discussion.'" He pronounced the word with as much irony as he could muster. He came down the few steps separating him from Ylek and stopped right in front of him. "For the 'sake of discussion'," he tilted his head to one side, in an obviously sarcastic gesture, "am I to understand that you are against former criminals' rehabilitation? Do you believe that a redeemed life doesn't deserve a second chance, if it shows repentance and proves its worth and usefulness? Do you consider it a threat to your personal beliefs and principles? Do your beliefs and principles condone indiscriminate killing instead?" He took one last step forward and his stare intensified. "Do you honestly believe that other people's crimes justify your own?"

Ylek met his stare challengingly, without saying a word.

"If you thought so, why did you stand with us and implicitly agree with our President's words on the day of this government's investiture before the entire galaxy? Why did you agree to be a member of this government in the first place?" Luke raised a very revealing eyebrow. "Perhaps you had already begun to plot overthrowing the government, when it became obvious it wouldn't be what you and your... associates wanted it to be. It gave you the best vantage point. You had full access to everything you needed, and you were always up to date with how close we were getting." He inched even closer to Ylek, until they were face to face, with Ylek looking down at the slightly shorter man, his face a mask of hatred and conniving malice.

The ego contest lasted for several seconds, until a warm hand settled on young Skywalker's shoulder.

Luke didn't have to look to know who was touching him. That touch was forever imprinted on his skin, heart and soul.

The gentle hand moved him away from Ylek, and only then did Luke look up at his father. Anakin was smiling softly at him, all of him radiant with love and pride. His hand moved from his child's shoulder to his cheek, cradling it in sheer adoration.

Luke's eyes misted for a moment, but then, he pressed his father's palm to his face, nodded at him and moved calmly behind him.

"What's the matter?" Ylek asked venomously. "Can't your son fight his own battles?"

"My son was fighting for his life all the years you were sitting comfortably on the bridge of the Executor, searching for coded Rebel transmissions," Anakin replied, his voice full of contempt. "It just makes me feel uneasy to see him that close to you," he wrinkled his nose, as if Ylek smelled.

"Now," Anakin went on after a brief pause. "_For the sake of discussion_," he pursued the increasingly hateful exchange, "would you so be kind as to tell us the names of those we still haven't arrested, and where they are hiding?"

"You've been playing too much with your lightsaber if you think I would tell you who's involved. If I knew, that is," Ylek smiled maliciously.

"We already know who's involved," Anakin smiled back, just as dangerously. "We just want to know specific names and places."

"You already know?" Ylek asked in a sickly voice and with a fake expression of shock. "You must be a bunch of geniuses, then."

"As a matter of fact, most of us sitting at this side of the table have very high IQs," Anakin pointed out in a surprisingly light-hearted manner. "But it doesn't take a genius to see it; we only have to look at the people we have arrested so far. This threat is a combination of two different forces: the former Empire and the former Alliance's forces."

Ylek's eyes bulged and his body stiffened noticeably in reaction to the older Jedi's words.

"The Empire half never wanted peace to begin with. They wanted total annihilation of the Rebellion. And the Alliance half considered unacceptable a truce with their arch-enemies, especially when Darth Vader was made Vice-President."

It was the first time that Anakin referred to himself by his Sith name, but his voice never wavered or showed any emotion. He was merely stating a fact. The fact that to millions of beings across the galaxy, he would always be Darth Vader, no matter what he did. A fleeting look of infinite sadness crossed his eyes, but it passed quickly.

A loving hand came to rest on his forearm, and moved him aside gently, as Luke stepped forward and took over.

"And now that we put our cards on the table, it's useless to deny it any longer, Captain. Your body language gave you away. Have a final gesture of decency and cooperate."

Ylek's features contorted with outrage and hatred.

"Cooperate? Cooperate with a government made of pardoned criminals from both sides and preaching hypocrites?" he spat. "Cooperate! That word is not in my vocabulary."

"It _was_ in your vocabulary, when you didn't hesitate to form an alliance with your enemies to bring down the Republic, and sacrifice all those who stood in your way; men, women and children, if necessary." Luke's face reddened and his eyes flashed with more anger than he had ever felt. "Instead of working together for the common good and helping to close the wounds separating both sides, you all cooperated in perfect harmony to disrupt and destroy the peace that took so many lives." He moved back, disgusted, unable to stand that stranger's nearness. "Of course, _your_ new government would be made of angels with clear consciences and no blood on their hands, right?"

Ylek made a gurgling noise from deep in his throat and a second later, a blob of saliva ran down Luke's face.

Anakin hissed like a Corellian python and lunged forward, but Luke put up his arm, holding his father back with that little gesture.

"I rest my case," he said, wiping away the liquid running down his cheek.

"We have seen and heard enough," Mon Mothma's voice was uncharacteristically clipped and low. "Take him away. He and his accomplices will be judged and convicted once this conspiracy has been fully uncovered and defeated."

A long silence followed Ylek and his escorts' departure.

"There will be true peace one day?" Mon Mothma said at last, shaking her head dejectedly.

"There will be periods of relative calm, but occasional bouts of violence will arise here and there, that is inevitable," Anakin replied softly. "Hopefully, this government will be given a chance to prove itself, and that will put many fears at ease. Until then..." he trailed off, shrugging expressively.

"It doesn't matter how old I get," General Dodonna spoke for the first time. "I will never understand criminal behaviour. Their mental processes to justify indiscriminate slaughter. No remorse, no second thoughts, no..."

"To them, we are the guilty party. It's as simple as that," Rieekan butted in. "In their eyes, we had no authority to form a government. We are a hypocritical and self-righteous bunch, with no power to tell anyone what is right and what is wrong. We left them no choice but to get rid of us."

"Captain Skywalker hit the nail on the head with his words," Mon Mothma's voice joined in the conversation, after a few moments of soul-searching. "Instead of voicing their objections, they automatically resorted to violence to dispose of a government they considered illegal and downright criminal." She let out a dry laugh, overwhelmed by the irony of the situation. "Both sides worked together, proving that true cooperation is indeed possible, to destroy instead of creating." She shook her head and looked down. "Pathetic."

"Are you all right?" Leia asked her brother when Luke took his seat beside her, wiping away the remaining wetness on his face with her fingers.

The young man nodded, smiling absent-mindedly at her.

"That bastard seemed to hold a personal grudge against you." Han pounded the table with his fist, releasing all the pent-up anger he had accumulated during the questioning. "I swear that if..."

"I had to force him to sit several times," Leia told Luke, stroking his hand soothingly.

"I don't blame you," Luke said glumly. "I was this close to losing it, too."

"Some people have the 'gift' of bringing out the worst in others," Lando commented ruefully. "That guy's a real psycho. I can't believe he fooled us all for over six months."

"Thanks to Leia's gift, we were able to uncover some of them." Anakin walked up to his daughter and placed a hand on Leia's shoulder, proudly. "But there are others. A scheme of this magnitude cannot be carried out with just eleven people. Dozens are needed, at the very least."

Everybody nodded silently, in total agreement.

"They will be off Coruscant, ready to strike as soon as the word is given," Rieekan pursued the logical reasoning.

"And they will have to strike soon, now that their plan is out in the open, and some of their master minds have been arrested," Madine completed it. "We must assume they have ships and weaponry at their disposal they still haven't made use of. I recommend for all our posts to be put on alert, and our planetary defences to be activated."

"Do it," Mon Mothma ordered without hesitation. "This building, among others, is to be considered a primary target."

"The drills will be resumed tomorrow," Anakin voiced his President's implicit order.

"We must be prepared for an imminent attack. All the Squadrons will be on standby until further notice," was the President's final order.

"As Captain of the Red Squadron, does this include me, your Excellency?" Luke asked.

"Not yet." Mon Mothma walked up to the immediately standing young man. She placed a warm hand on his shoulder and squeezed it affectionately. "I know this is not going to sound too Presidential, but you do us proud, Luke Skywalker. Your wisdom and integrity are an example to us all."

Luke blushed bright red and his eyes turned to his father, as if looking for help. Anakin chuckled softly and winked at him.

A heartbeat later the President was back, as she faced her executives.

"I will not sit here and wait. Have Intelligence working day and night. We _must_ find out where are they hiding and when they plan to attack, if that is their intention. Democracy will prevail this time."

"Yes, your Excellency," was the fierce chorus answer.

* * *

It was hot. Unbearably hot. Heat came out of him in waves. It wrapped itself around him, suffocating him. And then, it was suddenly cold. He struggled to breathe with increasing difficulty. And that smell... That ugly, nauseating smell... Burned flesh...

He half-closed his eyes, desperate to focus, desperate to see beyond the fog around his eyes. He couldn't see, but he could feel. He could feel them all, huddled round him. He could feel their fear, their shock, their horror...

His senses began to abandon him gradually. He felt dizzy, as if he was floating, detached from himself and his surroundings. He tried to stay conscious, but he lost the battle. He floated away, and away... and then, there was peace. Peace as he had never known...

"NO!" he cried out, sitting up in his bed with a brutal start. His hand instinctivey searched for the lights, but he stopped in mid-gesture.

No. It was time to stop running and get to the bottom of this dream. He _knew_ it meant something, he only had to concentrate and figure out what it was.

Perhaps he was handling it wrong. Perhaps, deep down, he _didn't want to know_ what it meant. Perhaps he was too scared to open his mind to it and its real meaning.

No fear. Just curiosity, as master Yoda had taught him. He only had to let it come to him.

The young man relaxed and slowly, curiously, opened his mind to the feelings and images in his dream. It wasn't quite there, yet. He had to reach deeper. Deeper...

And then, in a flash of merciless insight, the significance of the dream became clear.

All colour left his face, leaving it pasty white. His body froze as his soul fled in pure terror.

He remained as he was for what seemed like hours, but in fact were only a few minutes. At last, his spirit returned to his paralyzed body and he blinked.

Silent, resigned tears streamed down his cheeks.

* * *

He could feel the warmth of the sun on his face. A new day had come. A long, busy day, full of uncertainties and who knew what else. Just like any other day.

Anakin's mind awakened slowly, and as usual, he took the first few minutes of every new day to shamelessly enjoy the feelings his skin transmitted to his brain. He rejoiced in those sensations every single morning of his new life. The soft, delicate feel of the sheets on his body, the fluffy comfort of the pillow under his head, the weight of something lying across his chest...

That one was new. Whatever it was, it was heavy enough for his ribcage to make an extra effort to keep him breathing. And it was warm, too. Heavy and warm, and somehow... familiar. From a very long time ago.

Past and present came together in his mind, and unable to tell the difference anymore, Anakin opened his eyes to make certain he wasn't going mad.

The sight that greeted his eyes was a mop of dishevelled blond hair sticking out from beneath the sheets.

The older Jedi's heart exploded in a bubble of tenderness as he'd never known. His eyes filled with tears, and the most overwhelming feeling of protection rose in his chest. His arms moved automatically to wrap themselves around the body resting on him. One hand grabbed the sheets and moved them down a little.

Luke's head appeared before him. The upper half of his body was lying on him, his left hand forming a fist and clinging to his pyjama top like a frightened baby. His face was hidden in his chest, where he seemed to have buried it, seeking refuge from something.

Overcome by more love than his soul could contain, Anakin caressed the already ruffled hair, feeling it between his fingers as he had never done before. It was soft and thin, like Aquaris' velvet. He bent his head a little and sniffed at it. It smelled of cleanser and something else, something that was uniquely Luke.

He knew that newborn babies learned their parents' scent and engraved it in their memories, so they could recognize them when their other senses weren't as developed. He wondered if that was also true for the babies' parents, even if their 'babies' were in their twenties. He only knew he would recognize Luke's scent anywhere and for as long as he lived.

"My sweet, precious little angel," he whispered, safe in the knowledge of not being heard. He pressed his lips to the top of the tousled hair.

He didn't know what had brought Luke into his bed. His intuition told him it had to be either a nightmare, or a discovery that had disturbed him so much that it had forced him to seek out his father's comfort. Whatever it was, he was almost grateful for it.

Long, blissful minutes passed thus for the older man, drinking from his child's totally unexpected but infinitely welcome presence. One of the dreams he didn't dare to dream, because he knew it would never come true, had been realized today. Now, if only Luke would grant him the other... One little, insignificant word, that to him would be the greatest gift no one would ever grant him.

Dad.

Then, much too soon, Luke began to stir in his arms. Anakin felt him rubbing his face against his chest, like an awakening cub. He set to watch him, revelling in every cute little gesture he was so privileged to witness.

Luke turned his head to one side, resting the right side of his face on his chest. The blond lashes fluttered open. A few moments passed, as the young man took in his unusual surroundings. Anakin prepared himself for the instinctive stiffening of the smaller body.

When it came, he could barely hold back a grin. But it took his child longer than he expected to relax, and instead of relaxing fully, Luke enfolded him in his arms and clung to him like a drowning man to a lifesaver.

Frowning suspiciously, Anakin's own arms responded to the searing distress emanating from his son's body. He enveloped his child in his long arms and held him intensely.

It was then that Luke realized his father was awake. Embarrassment poured out of him, and a deep blush covered his face and neck to the roots of his hair. Even the little ears were bright red.

Anakin's hand buried itself in his child's hair.

'_Like this or you'd rather talk?'_ he sent mentally.

Luke squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, as if trying to get rid of a scary image in his mind.

"That nightmare again?" Anakin asked out loud.

Luke nodded.

"Calm down, Son. I am here. You are safe." Anakin kissed the blond head, nuzzling the soft strands comfortingly.

"I'm sorry I ended up here. My room was collapsing on me. Metaphorically speaking, of course," Luke's voice was muffled against his chest.

Anakin smiled. Luke's ironical sense of humour chose the funniest moments to surface. Usually, the more upset he was.

"The only positive aspect of it is that it brought you to me," he whispered in a cheerful manner, stroking his child's back soothingly.

"I see my teachings are bearing fruit, at last," Luke smiled, looking away.

"Better late than never," Anakin replied.

"Indeed," Luke nodded, his voice deeper than usual.

They stayed like that for a little while, in silence, each of them drinking in one another's love and devotion.

"What are you afraid of?" Anakin asked gently.

"I sense great danger," was the clipped reply.

"When? How? In what way?" Anakin bombarded his child with questions.

"I don't know." Luke closed his eyes. "Something big is going to happen, and I fear we won't be ready for it when it does. All I know, is that we must stick together and fight as one. Everything's chaotic and jumbled... I cannot describe it."

"One's never truly ready for things like this, but we are forewarned. And..."

"...Forewarned is forearmed," they said at the same time.

"We're a walking encyclopedia of proverbs," Anakin chuckled. Then, he got deadly serious as he looked down at the cherished head he cradled. "Have you tried meditating about this dream during the day? It's easier sometimes."

"I intend to do it," Luke nodded, a deep shudder running up and down his body. "I can't help getting this feeling of foreboding."

"I know how it is." Anakin shut his eyes, holding back a hiss and turning his mind away from those terrible memories. "And the worst part of it is not knowing if you're meant to do something about it or not. And if you _are_ supposed to change it somehow, what are you _exactly_ supposed to do."

Luke nodded again.

"What's the point of having these dreams anyway, if there is nothing we can do to change them, or we have no idea what do do?" Luke's hands grabbed his father's top desperately.

"It's a needless torture," Anakin swallowed the bitter, burning lump in his throat.

"Yes, needless." Luke lay limp on his father, dejectedly.

No more words were needed. They were on the same wavelength, as always.

Anakin knew it was time for them to get up, but a part of him was reluctant to give up this blissful closeness. Now that he had had another glimpse at the beauty of yet something else he had missed, he just couldn't let it go. Not so soon.

And judging from the way Luke burrowed into him, his son was just as reluctant to move.

"What is it, Luke?" The question was out of his lips before he even thought about it. He wondered why.

"I need you," was the heartbreaking answer. "I will always need you." Were there... tears in that voice?

"My precious little angel!" Anakin's heart ached as if a fist was squeezing the life out of it.

"Hold me," Luke begged unashamedly.

"For as long as you need it. Forever, if you want," Anakin promised fervently, increasing his already strong hold, until he thought he could hear Luke's ribs crack.

"I don't know what's happening to me. I— I just..." Luke tried to explain himself.

"Shhh, it is all right. We don't have to be strong all the time. We all feel alone and scared. We all need each other, never mind how old we are. Don't be ashamed of needing this." Anakin cuddled his child. "I need it more than you do."

"I love you, Father," Luke whispered against Anakin's chest.

"And I love you, Son. Even if at a time like this, you're still refusing to call me 'Dad,'" Anakin tried to bring some levity to the moment.

It worked. Luke let out a sound halfway betwen a laugh and a sob.

"The right moment will come. Fear not," he replied cryptically.

They stopped worrying about the time. This was all that mattered. All they needed. All they would ever need.

"I am complete," Anakin murmured into his child's ear.

"Me too," Luke sighed into his father's chest, wiping away his tears there. "I am the most fortunate being in the galaxy. Life granted me the only thing I ever wanted. I have a father now. _My_ Father. _Mine_!" In a final burst of need, he clung to Anakin, almost hurting him with the strength he pressed up against him.

'_My treasure,'_ Anakin thought to himself, wiping his own tears away in the soft blond hair.

Unexpectedly, Luke raised on his elbows and looked down at his father with a wistful smile on his face.

Anakin had caught his child looking at him that way several times in the last few months, but there was such an unbearable intensity in his stare this time, that his heart skipped a beat.

"Luke..." he began, reaching up and framing his son's cheek in his palm.

"Just want to look at you. To remember this moment forever," Luke interrupted him, wrapping his arms around his father's neck and embracing him one last, desperate time. Then, opening the sheets impulsively, he jumped off the bed.

"Captain Skywalker, ready for duty, sir!" he saluted Anakin formally.

Anakin contemplated his son, shaking his head patronizingly. His pyjamas were so rumpled that he looked like a dishevelled five year old. This young man was like quicksilver. He left him dizzy with his changing moods. Part child, part man, part innocent, part worldly, all wisdom. All Love.

But the older Jedi had also learned his lessons well. He was an expert on smoke-screens. And even if Luke was good at it too, he still had a few things to learn. Things that only experience of life could teach him.

Anakin could read his child like an open book. Luke was extremely disturbed about something. Something he was loath to share with him.

He figured that Luke would have his reasons, and even if everything he was, screamed at him to push, he also knew that Luke would only tell him when he was ready to talk about it, not a moment before.

He would wait until tonight, not a minute longer. Today would be an especially hectic and busy day. He would 'attack' when Luke was most vulnerable, all sleepy and tired, right before going to sleep.

His decision already made, Anakin got up too, returning the formal salute.

"Very well, young man. Report to me when you are washed and dressed. Dismissed."

Luke nodded, and a flicker of raw fear crossed his eyes, one heartbeat before turning about.

"And thank you for coming to me." Anakin's voice was sweet and loving like a soothing caress now. "Thank you for giving me the opportunity to be a father for you."

Luke stopped in mid-step and nodded slowly. Then, he headed for the door, with heavy steps.

"Luke," his father called when he was about to reach the doors.

This time, the young Jedi turned around and faced Anakin.

Anakin's features lit up with love and he opened his arms wide. An instant later, he was holding an armful of little Jedi, cuddling up to him as if his very life depended on it.

"You know I would die a billion times before hurting you or having you disappointed in me, don't you, my son?" Anakin whispered into the soft hair. "You know I love you more than anything, and I won't let anyone hurt you. You know...?"

"I love you when you get all topsy-turvy, Father," Luke silenced the nervous babbling, burying his face in the strong chest, feeling as if he could live there forever. "Thank you for putting up with my fears and insecurities. Thank you for this." He filled his lungs with his father's scent. How reassuring and calming it was!

"I wish I had to 'put up' with this every day of my life," Anakin replied out loud.

* * *

The mess hall was full to bursting. Today would be a very strenuous day for everybody, and they were preparing themselves for it by having lengthy and heavy breakfasts.

One of the tables was occupied by 'the Skywalker Bunch,' as every Squadron called it fondly. They had taken that particular table from day one, and it was implicitly acknowledged by everyone that it was the Skywalker family's table. It wasn't the best table of all, by any means. It was just... theirs.

Everyone was welcome at that table, in any case, whenever they wished. There were always a couple empty seats, in quiet invitation. And quite often, someone accepted the invitation.

Today, though, no one did. It was as if they felt that the Skywalker family needed to be alone together.

"So, how many children do you intend to have?" Luke asked Han and Leia out of the blue.

Everybody but the young Jedi choked on their breakfast, and they had to slap each other's backs until they caught their breath.

"Jeeez, kid, talk about subtle!" Han commented, blushing to the roots of his hair.

"I didn't think I'd live long enough to see you blushing," Luke smiled naughtily. Then he shrugged. "I was just curious, that's all."

"Well, ahhh... we haven't talked about it, yet," Leia replied with apparent nonchalance, but quite flushed herself. "I guess..." she looked at her fiancé and they maintained a short and fast conversation through their eyes. "At least two," she voiced for the two of them.

Han nodded eagerly.

"Three, most probably," he settled the matter. "But we'll wait a little before having any children. We want to enjoy our married life for some time first!" He took Leia's hand in his and smiled lovingly at her.

Luke nodded to himself, and took a spoonful of his breakfast in silence.

"And when do you intend to get married?" Anakin asked now.

"Why is everybody so eager for us to marry, all of a sudden?" Han asked, unable to hide his embarrassment.

"Because we love to see you blush, buddy," Lando joined in the teasing. "Did you know that colour becomes you?"

"And did you know that black and blue around your eyes becomes you even more?" Han retorted.

Lando chuckled, totally unrepentant, and continued with his breakfast, as Chewie ruffled his friend's hair and did some teasing of his own.

"Do you want me to set your fur on fire?" Han threatened, pointing his fork at the giant Wookie.

Chewie showed Han all his teeth in a feigned innocent smile that triggered everybody's laughter.

"Please, don't start throwing food. We have an image to maintain," Leia told her family, grabbing her stomach.

"What image?" everybody replied at the same time, setting off their laughter again.

"Oh, well," Anakin commented at last, wiping his tears away. "Nothing like good, healthy laughter to start the day."

"Right," Han smiled happily. He had a bad feeling this morning, but after this, things looked definitely brighter. It was funny how happy and alive some silly banter with your family could make you feel!

Family. A feeling he only began to understand after meeting Luke and Leia. He watched Leia totally enraptured as she finished her breakfast. How beautiful she was! But it wasn't just her beauty that drew him to her. Her strength of character, her resilience, her stubbornness, her spirit... so many things made her the extraordinary person she was! She would fight a hungry wampa with her bare hands to save any of them. And the wampa wouldn't stand a chance.

He admired her, besides loving her. And there weren't many people in the galaxy he truly admired. As a matter of fact, most of them were sitting at that table this very moment.

Life had taught him that the bravest, worthiest people weren't those who ventured into danger headfirst. Those were simply reckless fools. Great deeds didn't impress him anymore.

He admired people who were capable of admitting they were wrong, and decided to change their ways, never mind how hard it was. Those were the bravest people. People whose pride meant less to them than Truth.

Lando had been the first, and then... Anakin. The Corellian's eyes went from the first to the second, and a wave of affection filled his heart. It amazed him how easily he had forgiven. It wasn't that he was a resentful person, but as time went by, it was harder for him to see past people's acts. It seemed to him that grown people should be more mature and realize that one's acts had consequences. And some were irreparable.

What Anakin had done went beyond anything Han would have ever imagined. The heartless monster who had chased them implacably for years, the galaxy's biggest mass murderer, was sitting before him right now, a loving father, a loyal and caring friend, more upright and decent than many he would have vouched for only a few hours ago.

He would never thank Luke enough for recovering that apparently hopeless soul to them and the entire galaxy. He hoped that one day, most of the millions of beings who still distrusted Anakin Skywalker, would open their eyes to the Truth that was so plainly obvious for him to see, and he rejoiced in with every fibre of his being.

Luke. His eyes turned to his soon-to-be brother-in-law. The gentlest, kindest... the _best_ human being he had ever known, and was so proud to call friend. No law would bring them closer than they already were. No law would make them more brothers than they already were. Brothers in spirit if not in blood.

"Ahem... Luke," he found himself speaking.

Luke's eyes turned to him, open and loving, as they always were.

"I was wondering..." he began clumsily, "well, we were wondering..." he corrected himself, looking briefly at Leia and blushing as he had never blushed before, "...if you would like to be my best man at our wedding." He cleared his throat sheepishly.

Luke's eyes misted, but he quickly blinked the tears away. He softly placed his knife and fork on the table and swallowed hard a couple times, before answering, in the weakest voice.

"It would be my greatest honour, Han."

The Corellian's face illuminated with joy and love, and the two friends stared at each other, unable to look away.

"Hey, Luke. Will you fly with us this morning?" Wedge interrupted the terribly moving moment, making everybody jump. "Oh, I'm sorry for intruding!" the young man apologized sincerely.

"No intrusion," Luke swallowed again, smiling up at his flustered friend. "And no, not this time."

"Higher duties, huh?" Vaughan joined in the conversation, in his usual straightforward manner. "Well, it'll do us good. I was beginning to feel a little bit rusty."

"You feel rusty ten minutes after jumping off your X-Wing," a young pilot named Jesse teased him, wrapping an arm around Vaughan's shoulders and shaking him affectionately.

Vaughan straightened his back, proud as a peacock.

"What can I say? I'm an action man," he boasted exaggeratedly, returning the one-armed hug.

"You're a showoff," Wedge ribbed fondly.

"That, too." Vaughan smiled from ear to ear, unashamedly.

Everybody burst out laughing.

"Well, we gotta go," Kashee, another pilot, slapped Vaughan and Wedge's backs warmly when the laughter subsided. "We will miss you up there," he told Luke wholeheartedly. "And you too, General!" he looked at Anakin, his eyes shining with respect.

"Yeah!" all the squadron agreed as one, all of them crowded around the Skywalker table by now.

"That is very kind of you, thank you," Anakin smiled, genuinely moved.

When the exuberant bunch left, Leia turned to her brother.

"What do you intend to do after breakfast?" she asked him.

"I intend to meditate about a recurrent dream I've been having lately," Luke replied, all too casually.

Leia raised a suspicious eyebrow.

"Something we should know about?"

"When I figure it out, you will be the first to know," Luke smiled at her, holding her hand in his and kissing her cheek. "I love you, little sister," he winked at her.

"I love you too, _little brother_," Leia teased back.

Luke chuckled and stood up.

"Where will you be?" he asked his family.

"The drills will be resumed at 13:00 PM," Anakin replied. "I would like to visit Areen for a little while," the older Jedi shrugged self-consciously.

Luke nodded approvingly and squeezed his father's forearm.

"I would like to train this morning, but since my two masters will be busy, I'll join Han, Lando and Chewie, correlating all data with Intelligence. The more we're looking, the more possibilities we have of finding something."

"Yes," Luke nodded again, emphatically. "Follow your instinct and your intuition," he instructed with a loving smile.

"Do you think I could use the Force to try and guess where are they hiding?" Leia's eyebrows skyrocketed.

"Of course. Just concentrate and reach out with your feelings."

"That's what we all do, Force-sensitive or not," Han waved his hand, dismissing Luke's instructions. "The only problem is that when I concentrate too hard, I fall sleep."

Luke stared at his friend with a pretended compassionate expression.

"You shouldn't abuse your brain like that, Han. It's not used to such draining efforts," he smiled at the Corellian, his eyes bright with mischief.

Han stuck out his tongue at the young Jedi.

* * *

Anakin entered the Headquarters' sickbay, and headed directly for the bed where Areen Worzzlek had been lying for the last two days. He stood there, contemplating the still form, unable to hold back a wave of affection.

As he had done before, he grabbed a chair and sat by Areen's bedside, watching the sleeping man. Thinking. Pondering. Struggling...

"I don't know what am I doing here," he suddenly found himself speaking. "I guess... I guess that if I was in your place, I wouldn't want to be alone, even if I had no way to know I *was* alone."

His eyes settled on the apparently calm face.

"Did I hurt you personally in any way when I was Darth Vader? Did you think I hadn't really changed and I was deceiving you all? Is that the reason why you never accepted me as the Republic's Vice-President?" he asked, even though he knew there would be no answer. He shook his head. "I cannot believe you wanted that position for yourself, and that was the reason why you turned against your friends. You _must_ have thought you were doing the right thing." He let out a dry laugh. "Believe me. I _know_ how it is. I murdered men, women and children without second thoughts because I believed I was serving a greater good." He snorted, disgusted with himself. "I wanted to save my family from certain death, and I lost it all. My family, my dignity, my honour and my soul. And when everything you've ever loved, has died because of you, you're an empty shell that only hatred and anger are strong enough to fill. You revel in the sight of destruction, because that sight is the perfect mirror of what lies inside you."

The Jedi master bowed his head and swallowed hard.

"I was beyond salvation from the first innocent life I took, or so I thought. Until Luke," he pronounced his son's name like a holy word. "He reached out to me in a way I had _never_ seen. Unconditionally. He knew who I was, _what_ I was, and he still had faith in me." He bit his lower lip and looked up. "Do you know what it is like to be trusted again, after decades of utter depravation? The feeling of being needed, of being loved and accepted as who you _are_, despite everything you have done? My son's love saved me. He found-in-me," he hit his chest repeatedly with his fist, "what everybody else had given up on. Myself included. His love cleansed me, made me believe that I could turn back. I only had to want it. He was always there, waiting for me with all the love he had to give," he wiped away the wetness on his face. "He loved all the ugliness inside me first. The ugliness that had mutilated him." He choked on his words. "He loved Vader before loving Anakin. That's why Anakin returned."

Instinctively, Anakin took Areen's hand in his own.

"I hated you for turning against us. For joining those who had planned to destroy what I love the most. My son, my friends, and a system I can finally believe in. But I realized I can't do any less than my Luke. He's my the example I live my life by. Both my children are. Leia saw there is goodness in you, and it would be a crime to give up on you. I won't leave you, Areen." He raised his eyes to the unresponsive man. "Maybe you still hate me. Maybe you don't give a damn about my forgiveness. But if deep down you do, it's all yours, Areen. I forgive you with all my heart, as I know everybody does." He smiled sadly. "If it's true what they say, that people lying in a coma can still feel and hear what's being said in their presence, then you must know how many people have come to visit you. Our President, who loves you dearly. My children, my friends, who are still your friends."

The older Jedi's eyes filled with tears once more, and he squeezed the warm hand.

"Yes, we're still your friends, Areen. We want you back. You only have to _want_ to return."

He looked away, an ironical expression on his face.

"Yes, I know. That is the hardest part. To forgive oneself. To believe in your right to be forgiven when you don't believe it yourself. But I trusted Luke before trusting myself. That is the key. To trust others and rely on their judgement when you're not sure you deserve _anything_." He squeezed Areen's hand again. "We're all waiting for you, Areen. _We_ are the reason why you must return. You must give us the chance to get to know you better, and learn from you. Your thoughts, your feelings, your _self_. You have so much to give!"

Silence answered his heartfelt words.

"Also, you must learn to let go, Areen. Let go of your pride and stubbornness. Those feelings are the worst barrier against forgiveness. I know from bitter experience," he sighed tiredly. "I _need_ you to let go of those feelings so you can forgive me, if I hurt you in any way. Please, Areen! I need your forgiveness to have peace, too."

Silence stretched on for several minutes. Finally, with another long sigh, Anakin squeezed the man's hand for the last time.

"I have to go now. There are a lot of things that have to be done. Everybody sends their love. They want you to wake up as much as I do." He let go of the still hand. "I'll be back as soon as I can. If I can't tonight, then first thing in the morning. I promise." He stood up. "Be well, Areen."

The older Jedi put his chair aside, and headed for the door.

"A-An-Anakin," a male voice called weakly.

Anakin froze in his tracks and turned about sharply.

Areen Worzzlek's eyes were half-open and glittery, and looking at him. Tears collected in his lower eyelids, and finally spilled.

"Areen," Anakin uttered, unable to believe what he was seeing.

The two men stared at each other for a long moment, until the infinite pain and remorse coming out of Areen brought Anakin to the man's bedside, and he sat down on it.

He knew those feelings. They would accompany him for as long as he lived, and he deeply regretted that from now on they would also have to accompany his friend.

Without thinking, he reached out and held the broken man in his arms. Areen returned the embrace weakly, too ashamed to ask for more.

The older Jedi didn't have such compunction, and increased the pressure on Areen's ribcage, comforting him with everything he had.

"I am sorry. I'm so sorry!" Areen moaned. He had no words. There were no words to express the horror and shame he felt.

"It is all right. It's all right, Areen. Everything's all right now," Anakin soothed as if to a child, petting the man's hair compassionately.

"I wanted to leave. I wanted to leave after the land-mine on Ansion," Areen exploded at last, "but they said they would kill you all, even if their plan was uncovered because of it. Ylek said he would kill us all in the Great Hall, and I knew he would."

"Yes, I know he would be more than capable of doing it," Anakin nodded. "He and the others would take our places after an unfortunate accident, an inexplicable droid malfunction, or an unnamed terrorist attack had disposed of us. The Republic would go on, without those they considered evil and unworthy, or simple sycophants."

Areen nodded against Anakin's shoulder.

"When the bomb in the Falcon failed, Ylek lost it. Until then, some considered killing you one by one, and others in one go. But after the Falcon, everybody agreed it was time to take drastic measures."

"What about Luke's X-Wing?" Anakin asked.

Areen swallowed hard.

"That one was planned after the ambush on Veltra, but when the big one was plotted, they forgot about their plan to sabotage your son's ship." Areen moved back and looked at Anakin, fear and apprehension in his eyes. "Is Luke all right?"

Anakin had stiffened and paled like a ghost.

"Yes, he is," Anakin reassured him. "But... what 'big one', Areen?"

"You don't know?" Areen frowned. "When you said that you knew about Ylek, I thought you had found out about the conspiracy and arrested them all."

"We have arrested eleven people so far, Ylek among them," Anakin explained. "Is he the master mind?"

"One of them. But there are thousands involved," Areen replied. "Their secret base is on Wayland. That's where they've been hiding the Star Destroyers and all the ships they will use to attack Coruscant."

Anakin's blood ran cold in his veins. An attack was to be expected any time now, but...

"Star Destroyers? What Star Destroyers, Areen? The few remaining ones were dismantled after the war."

"Not all of them. Somehow, Ylek found out that the Emperor had ordened the construction of a final consignment of Destroyers, months before the battle of Endor. They were to be built on Zhar. But the construction of the second Death Star took precedence, so the Star Destroyers weren't ready on time."

Anakin let out a dry smile. So, his former master had kept his own secrets from him. It was not surprising. It was flattering, as a matter of fact. It showed that Palpatine had distrusted him long before Vader realized he wasn't to be trusted.

"And they are ready now," he stated unnecessarily.

"They've been ready for weeks," Areen nodded. "The attack will take place in two days. On the nineteenth."

Anakin's face was ashen in a matter of seconds.

"Areen, _today is nineteenth_. You've been in a coma for two days."

"_What_?" Areen exclaimed, in shock.

Anakin tried to keep calm and think rationally, but every alarm inside him was ringing deafeningly... and something else. Something else he couldn't pinpoint...

"W-what time are they going to attack?" he cursed his sudden nervousness. He had to get a grip. He had never feared going into battle.

Areen seemed totally knocked out by Anakin's revelation, but he met the Jedi's eyes and regained his composure.

"If they haven't changed their plans, it was scheduled for noon," he replied. "What time is it now?"

Anakin's eyes had closed, in a gesture that said it all. He quickly opened them again, fierce determination hardening his features.

"Hopefully, not too late," he muttered, jumping to his feet. "You stay here and let the doctors examine you!" He dashed for the doors.

"But there's also...!" Areen cried out after the already closed doors.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	8. Chapter 8

Luke was sitting in a cross-legged position on one of the soft floor cushions in the Observation Hall. He had been meditating for half an hour and some future events were clearer to him now, although others still remained in the shadows. He could feel the tears on his cheeks, but he paid no attention to them. They would be of no help when...

Suddenly, he was thrown out of his meditative state by his father's abruptly overwhelming presence in his mind.

'_Luke!'_

'_Yes, Father?'_ he replied instantly.

'_Meet me in the Great Hall at once. Areen woke up and informed me that a massive attack has been plotted for noon today!'_

'_I'm on my way!'_ The young man darted for the doors.

'_Alert everyone you pass!'_ Anakin ordered. _'We must evacuate all official buildings. They will be primary targets.'_

'_Acknowledged.' _

'_Where is the President?'_ Anakin asked. _'We must take her to the bunker.'_

'_I think she was scheduled to visit an exhibition at Coruscant's Gallery of Art. She insisted on not allowing them to interfere with our daily lives. Let's pray she's not gone yet.'_

'_I will look for her. Set off the alarm! The first to arrive will use the PA system. We must evacuate Coruscant's streets, as well. They're likely to be bombarded.'_

'_Bombarded?'_ Luke's mind froze, in shock. _'With what? How did they get the ships and weapons necessary for an attack of this scale?'_

'_A final shipment of Star Destroyers that Palpatine ordered built and I was never informed about. Somehow, Ylek found out about them.' _

'_But... but, this isn't a string of calculated murders anymore. This is a rebellion!'_ Luke's mind could hardly cope with what was happening.

'_Exactly,'_ was Anakin's subdued, glum reply.

Luke burst out of the lift and and bumped into Areen Worzzlek, who intended to enter. The two ended up on the floor in a tangle of limbs.

"Areen!" Luke exclaimed, standing up with effort, and helping the other man up. "What are you doing here?"

"I was on my way to warn you," Areen replied, trying to catch his breath. "Your father left sickbay before I could tell him."

"Tell him what?"

"They plan to blow up this building and several others, too!" Areen said, grabbing Luke's upper arm.

Luke was speechless for a short, horrifying moment.

"W-w-what? HOW?" he asked.

"Did you arrest Keyholm, the Security Chief? He's involved," Areen explained.

"Yes, we did. He was one of Mon Mothma's most trusted men, and a genius, as far as computers and explosives are concerned." The young man paled, as the implications of his own words became evident.

"He's been planting explosive charges in the basements of several buildings for weeks. As Chief of Security, he and his men have got access everywhere, on any planet."

"The traffic droids on Veltra," Luke understood now.

"Yes," Areen nodded. "And the land-mine on Ansion. The bomb in the Falcon was planted by the two traitors in your personal escort who shot me."

"Those are dead. They committed suicide," Luke said.

"I see," Areen's eyes looked absent for a second. "Many other rooms are bugged too, not just your father's! Even the Great Hall!" he remembered suddenly.

Luke smiled and placed a hand on the other man's shoulder, squeezing it affectionately.

"We know, my friend. We've been searching the building discreetly for the last couple days. Most of it is secure now."

Areen's eyes misted at the sound of the word Luke had used to address him. He looked down, in shame.

"You shouldn't call me that. What I did..."

"...was proving to us that you _are_ our friend," Luke's voice left no room for discussion. "Now go back to sickbay and help to evacuate the ill and all those you can. We'll take care of the rest. Hurry!"

"Yes, sir!" Areen obliged, sprinting for Sickbay, still dressed in his sickbay gown.

Luke ran down the corridor, until he reached one of the alarms. He set if off.

A deafening noise echoed in the walls, and the young man winced. This would bring people out of their rooms, and it would be easier to warn them, until either he or his father reached the PA system.

He headed for the Great Hall.

'_Father!'_ he called.

'_Tell me,'_ Anakin replied, less than a heartbeat later.

'_I just met Areen in the corridor. He told me that our Chief of Security has been planting bombs in the basements of several buildings, including this one. They're going to blow them up.'_

'_Holy Force!'_ Anakin exclaimed. _'We must evacuate them at the double!'_

'_Their own men are locked up in this building's cells,'_ Luke tried to rationalize the situation. _'Do you think they'll still blow it up with them inside?'_

'_At this point, I don't think they care about a dozen of their men, Ylek included.'_ Anakin replied sadly.

'_Yes, you're right,'_ Luke agreed dejectedly.

Right then, he saw Han and Leia turning a corner. They saw him too and ran up to him.

"What the hell's going on?" Han demanded to know.

"Everything," Luke replied. "Areen woke up and told Father that the attack we were expecting, will take place at noon today."

"WHAT?" was the joint exclamation of utter disbelief.

"They have a shipment of Star Destroyers at their disposal that no one knew about. We can only guess at their weaponry. And Keyholm has been planting explosive charges in the basements of several buildings, including this one."

"We must evacuate!" Leia cried out.

"Father ordered an immediate meeting in the Great Hall. He was looking for the President. Do you know if she left for the exhibition already?" Luke asked his sister.

"I think not," she replied.

"Then, he will find her." He set off running for the Hall, followed close behind by his friends. "We must evacuate all non-essential personnel and all the civilians."

* * *

Five minutes later, the emergency evacuation was proceeding uneventfully and Anakin and Mon Mothma were the last ones to enter the Great Hall.

"What measures have been taken so far?" she asked, hurrying to her seat.

"The evacuation of this building and several others is progressing smoothly," Thazzel replied, rising to his feet.

"Every holochannel is warning the population to stay at home, shut doors and windows, and hide in the safest rooms of their buildings," Madine continued.

"All Squadrons have been warned. Our planetary defenses are on full alert. When they come out of light-speed, we'll locate them," Rieekan informed.

"When will the Fleet arrive?" she asked Ackbar.

"In 20 minutes," the Mon Calamary replied.

"Lando, Chewie and I volunteer to go down to the cells, and 'persuade' Keyholm to tell us what other buildings he has planted with bombs, and how to deactivate them." Han looked at his President, a feral smile on his lips.

"Go," was Mon Mothma's answer.

When the three friends were heading for the door, her voice resounded anew, strong and firm.

"No harshness, General!"

"No problem," Han turned his head and let out his infamous crooked grin. "My gift of the gab will be enough."

"Take a comlink with you. All teams will carry one to stay in touch with each other. In case our frequencies are monitored, we'll code our transmissions. Code Delta."

"Acknowledged!" Lando replied, before the doors closed after them.

"How long?" Mon Mothma asked.

"21 minutes, 35 seconds," Madine answered.

A deafening alarm started ringing at that very moment.

"Or maybe not," Madine amended his own words.

Ackbar opened the communications channel.

"All Squadrons, report!"

"We've got visual contact," Wedge's voice came through.

"How many?" Rieekan asked.

"One squadron so far. Must be the advance patrol."

"Do not open fire. I repeat: do NOT open fire unless they do," Mon Mothma ordered. They had to give non-violence a last chance, even if it was useless by now.

"Understood," Wedge said.

A few seconds later, an explosion filtered through the static.

"We're under attack! We're under attack!" someone's voice cried out.

"Repel the attack! Repel the attack!" Mon Mothma cried out in an unwavering voice.

"Roger," replied Wedge's surprisingly calm voice.

Right then, a cacophony of screaming, explosions and ensuing orders made everybody give a start.

"It has begun again," Mon Mothma bowed her head, a shade of infinite sadness in her voice.

"Justice will prevail," Anakin reassured her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "This will be the final challenge to the Republic before true Peace becomes a reality."

"How can you be so sure?" she asked, raising her misted eyes to his.

"I am a Jedi, and we Jedi know about these things," he shrugged coyly.

She smiled, despite herself.

"I pray you are right." She let out a tired sigh.

"We must leave, your Excellency," Anakin reminded her softly. "This isn't a safe place anymore. We must go to the bunker. At least, until this building is secure."

Mon Mothma nodded resignedly.

* * *

The door of the cell 021 burst open. The man sitting on the bunk quickly stood up, facing Han, Lando and Chewie.

"Why, why, why. Look who's here," he smiled at the newcomers with a nasty smile. "Two men and a Wookie."

"Yep, that's us," Han replied, smiling back warmly.

"Don't tell me. Let me guess," Keyholm looked up and pursed his lips, as if in deep thought. "I know!" he snapped his fingers. "You want to ask me something."

"You're a genius, Keyholm. Did you know that?" Lando praised, walking around him, and looking at him up and down.

"It doesn't take a genius, but thank you for the compliment." The tall man put his arms behind his back proudly.

A deafening alarm made everybody jump.

"Look at that!" Keyholm's eyebrows shot up in pretended shock. "Seems like we're under attack."

"For a second, you almost seemed honestly surprised." Han advanced closer and closer to the still man.

"Not really," Keyholm shrugged. "So, to what do I owe the honour of your visit?"

"Nothing big, considering what's happening up there right now," Han commented, his eyes flashing for a moment. "We know you've planted bombs in the basements of several buildings, including this one. We want you to tell us which buildings, and how to deactivate the explosives, in case you've included any 'surprises' in the bombs' mechanisms."

"And why should I tell you?" Keyholm asked.

"Because it would be very rude of you not to?" Lando replied.

Keyholm shook his head.

"I'm afraid not. I'm tired, and I'd like to take a nap. These bunks aren't exactly comfortable, but I'll manage. Good day, my friends." He half-turned, but Chewie's bulk stopped him in mid-gesture. The Wookie's big paw settled on his shoulder, and squeezed it brutally with a bone-chilling growl.

"Ah!" Keyholm cried out.

"C'mon, Chewie, don't be so impolite," Han tried to calm down his favourite Wookie. "Remember what the President told us. No harshness."

Chewie nodded and obeyed, releasing Keyholm's shoulder. His huge hand combed through the prisoner's hair, leaving it impeccable.

"You know, Han?" Lando turned to his friend. "I think we should give Keyholm a break. After all, he'll have all the time in the world to _sleep_ when this building blows up."

"You're right, buddy!" Han slapped Lando's back enthusiastically. "We should leave him alone to prepare himself." He turned to the Wookie. "Let's go, Chewie."

The three headed for the door.

"Excuse me," sounded Keyholm's slightly shaky voice behind them. "The Galactic Convention on the Rights of War Prisoners states that in the event of an attack, all prisoners must be taken to safety."

"Really?" Han asked, holding his chin. "I don't remember that one. Do you remember, Lando?"

"No, I don't," Lando shook his head. "In any case, when they find Mr. Charm's body among the rubble, we can always say that we were in such a hurry to evacuate, that we forgot about this cell."

"Good thinking," Han applauded. "And if we're defeated, who cares? We'll all be dead, anyway."

The three friends were leaving when Keyholm lunged forward.

"You CAN'T do that, you bastards!" he cried out, grabbing Han's vest from behind.

"And who's going to stop us, you little piece of shit?" Han turned around, grabbed Keyholm by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the wall, his forearm across the man's throat. "Certainly, not you!" he spat.

The two men looked daggers at each other.

"The way I see it, you have two choices," Han inched so close that he ended up breathing on the other man's face. "Either you tell us what we want to know, or this building will be your grave."

Keyholm's face twisted in sheer hatred as he ground his teeth, trying to guess if the Corellian was bluffing.

* * *

Above Coruscant's atmosphere, an unevenly matched battle was being fought.

More and more Rebel Squadrons broke out of hyperspace. They were mostly TIE fighters, but some of them had been modified, and it was plain to see that they now had dangerously higher manoeuvrability and fire power.

"Remember, we must hold them back at all costs until backup arrives," Wedge reminded them all, blowing up a TIE fighter.

"And when will that be?" Vaughan's voice asked.

"Soon," Wedge eluded a direct answer.

"That means much too long," someone's voice translated unnecessarily for them all.

"Just my type of battle, against all odds," Vaughan commented with a chuckle, spinning maddeningly past a fighter's slipstream, making it lose control and crash against another fighter.

"Worthwing, you're crazy!" Kashee cried out, momentarily blinded by the big explosion.

"YESSSS, that's why I'm so handsome!" Vaughan roared.

"I've got an idea," yelled Green Leader. "What do you say to Spider's Web?"

"It could work," Wedge nodded. "We can't afford for them to get past our perimeter."

"And if someone gets past it, the ion cannons will take care of them," Red Four said.

"Don't count on it. They're too small," Kashee replied.

"Stand by to close up formation, on my mark," Wedge ordered.

"Copy, Red Leader," everybody acknowledged.

"Now!" Wedge cried out.

It took less than fifteen seconds for all squadrons to form a living net of X-Wings that maintained a steady formation, shielding Coruscant behind them and blasting into oblivion everything that came near it.

But more and more fighters were pouring out of hyperspace. They knew they wouldn't be able to hold them off forever.

Things were beginning to look grim, when two squadrons of Y-Wings came out of hyperspace.

"It was about time," Red Six commented.

"Hello, there," the Y-Wing Commander greeted his comrades. "Are we too late to join the party?"

"Just in time," Wedge replied. "But I'm afraid we're expecting more guests."

"Such as?" the Commander asked.

"Such as the Star Destroyer that just broke out of light-speed, point three four," Kashee's suddenly deep voice sobered them all.

"Oh, crap!" Green Leader summed up everybody's feelings to perfection.

"I think we're going to need more backup," Vaughan muttered to himself.

* * *

Han, Lando and Chewie burst out of Keyholm's cell. Lando took out the comlink he carried in a pocket.

"Team Two to Team One. Come in, Team One," he called.

"Go ahead, Team Two," Anakin's voice replied.

"Keyholm was happy to cooperate with us," Lando informed. "We know what buildings he planted with bombs, and where he planted them. We already alerted the Bomb Squads. They should start deactivating them in a few minutes. They're set to be detonated in sequence."

"Well done," Anakin's smile shone through the comlink. "Now join us in the bunker. We're on our way there. Did you give orders for the cells to be evacuated, too?"

"Yes," Lando said. "The droids will take care of that."

"Good," Anakin approved.

* * *

Ylek checked the time and stood up from the bunk where he had been lying. Everything was progressing as planned.

He opened a panel on the wall, revealing a hollow niche. He took out a tiny blaster and two small devices. He hid the first in his pocket, aimed the second at the door and pressed the button.

The door slid open.

Ylek verified no one was coming, and went out onto the corridor. One by one, he opened the doors of the other cells.

"So, this was the ace up your sleeve, eh?" Keyholm asked, joining Ylek in the corridor. "It would have been nice of you if you had told us sooner."

"Stop whining, Keyholm. I told you everything was under control," Ylek dismissed his partner's complaints disdainfully.

"Everything but the strength of a Wookie's paw. My shoulder will be black for weeks. I didn't know about your little plan, and I had to tell them where I placed the bombs," Keyholm grumbled.

"It's all right. They won't leave this building alive," Ylek smiled viciously.

"What do you mean?" Keyholm asked.

"If my calculations are correct, they should be on their way to the bunker right now. In that case..."

"SH! Someone's coming," a voice warned.

Everybody hurried to find a hiding place.

"It's the Security droids that are supposed to take us to safety," whispered Commander Jayson, from the Gold Squadron.

"Oh. No problem, then," Ylek shrugged, coming out of his hiding place.

"Ylek, what the hell are you doing?" someone whispered angrily.

"Hello, _guys_," Ylek greeted the approaching droids.

The droids turned their heads as one, but they never had time to draw out their weapons. Ylek took out the second device from his pocket, pointed it at the droids and pressed a button.

The droids froze on the spot.

"Execute Order 66-A," Ylek ordered.

Immediately, the droids turned around and left the same way they had come.

Thunderstruck, everybody came out of their hiding places.

"Order 66-A?" Keyholm asked, in obvious amusement.

Ylek shrugged casually.

"I figured that if we're going to kill the two remaining Jedi alive, among others, we can pay our particular homage to the guy who started it all. Palpatine was a monster, but he had class."

"You can say that again," Keyholm nodded ironically.

* * *

The lift stopped and the doors opened. Anakin exited first and had a quick look.

"It's clear," he informed the others.

Everybody followed suit.

"How long do you think it will take the Bomb Squads to deactivate all the bombs, Father?" Luke asked.

"I could do it faster," Anakin admitted, immediately getting the hint.

"You are _not_ going _anywhere_," Mon Mothma ordered categorically. "You are _not_ expendable. It is time to put those drills to the test, and hope for the best."

"Yes, your Excellency," Anakin obeyed reluctantly.

Right then, synchronized steps began approaching them.

"The Security droids," Leia announced, taking a fast look to her right. "Will we wait here for Han and the others, or will we meet them at the bunker?" she asked her father.

"I told Lando to join us in the bunker," Anakin replied. "However, they're bound to cross this corridor, so..."

A sudden silence made the older Jedi look in the droids' direction. They had stopped dead twenty metres away from them. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and he frowned in foreboding.

The hatches on the droids' bellies opened.

"RUN!" Anakin cried out without thinking, drawing out his lightsaber. "NOW!"

Next to him, Anakin heard the buzzing sound of his son's lightsaber being ignited.

Two seconds later, all hell broke loose.

"Go to the bunker!" Anakin cried out to everybody. "We'll cover you!"

"We can take care of ourselves, thank you!" Thazzel yelled back, drawing out his blaster.

"Darn it!" Leia muttered to herself. "When I accepted training and gave up my blaster, I never thought I'd end up weaponless against a bunch of reprogrammed droids."

Just then, one of the droids rendered useless by Anakin and Luke's deflected fire, collapsed. Its blaster slid on the polished floor and ended up a few metres in front of her.

"Talk about having one's wishes granted!" she said to herself, using the Force to summon the blaster to her hand. "Since I still have to build my own lightsaber, this will have to do, even if it isn't the Jedi way," she justified to herself, beginning to open fire. She ran to Dodonna's side, who was flat against the wall, totally defenceless.

"Thank you, Princess," the old man expressed his gratitude in one breathless gasp. "How unfortunate that I don't have a blaster to protect myself."

"Be my guest, General," Leia handed him her own. "I'll find myself another."

"How?" Dodonna asked, arching his eyebrows.

"Like this," she replied, holding out her hand and summoning a second blaster on the floor.

"Like Father, Like Daughter, I see," Dodonna couldn't keep the admiration from his voice.

"Precisely," Leia said, blasting a droid's head off. "You stay behind me and shoot at every piece of metal that moves. I'll cover you."

"Thank you, young lady. My legs and my aim are not as strong and good as they used to be, but adrenalin is pumping good."

"You're telling me," she rolled her eyes.

"Can you hear that?" Luke asked Anakin, deflecting a blaster bolt that was heading directly for his father's head.

"Yes," Anakin replied. "More droids are coming. We have to get moving." He used the Force to throw two droids backwards and slam them against the wall.

"Back up!" Luke ordered. "Hurry!"

"What about Han, Lando and Chewie?" Leia shouted.

Anakin threw the comlink at his daughter.

"Warn them! Tell them to head directly for the bunker, and beware of _all_ droids!"

"Do you think they've reprogrammed them all?" Luke asked.

Anakin looked into his son's eyes for a millisecond. _Anything_ was to be expected.

"We must assume the worst and be ready for it," Anakin advised.

Blaster fire threw the two Jedi against the wall, looking for cover.

"They're surrounding us, Father!" Luke cried out.

"I know! We'll have to find an alternate route to the bunker!" Anakin replied. With so many people to defend, they couldn't display all their Jedi abilities. They couldn't leave their friends unprotected.

"This way!" Luke yelled, indicating a small corridor to their left.

"Artoo, plug in to every terminal along the way, and find out if they have meddled with the computers in any way. We don't want to come across any surprises," Anakin told the small droid.

Artoo beeped assent.

The group ran down a narrow corridor, with Leia and Thazzel on the front, and Luke and Anakin covering their rear.

* * *

In space above Coruscant, the intensity of the battle had just increased another notch.

"Star Destroyer number two, point four six," Red Seven reported.

"Wonderful," Wedge muttered to himself, checking the time. Four minutes for the Fleet to arrive.

"I think you mean Star Destroyer number three, point two five," Vaughan corrected his comrade's announcement.

"Erm, right," Red Seven cleared his throat loudly.

"Someone said anything about backup?" the Y-Wings' Commander asked Wedge.

"I thought *you* were backup," Wedge replied.

"True. I forgot."

"At this rate, I don't think we can maintain our formation for too long," Kashee stated the obvious.

"Any ideas?" Wedge said.

"What about the classic, old-fashioned confrontation, that consists of blowing up any enemy vessel that we come across?" Vaughan suggested.

"We must protect Coruscant at all costs," Wedge reminded them.

"Some ships will get past our perimeter sooner or later," Vaughan acknowledged for them all. "Our planetary defenses will take care of that eventuality."

"You're correct. But the later the better," Wedge decided. "We'll hold on for as long as we can."

Right then, a huge laser beam vaporized two Y-Wings.

A horrified silence befell them all.

"We're in big trouble." Vaughan couldn't believe what he had just seen.

* * *

Han, Lando and Chewie stopped in their tracks. Dozens of Security droids lay on the floor of the corridor, and many spots on the walls were burnt from deflected blaster bolts.

Han dropped to one knee and examined the disabled droids. He looked up at his friends.

"Well, here's where everything started."

Lando nodded.

"Let's trust they made it to the bunker safe and sound," he wished out loud.

"I don't dare to contact them again, in case they're fighing more droids and I distract them," Han stood up.

"Let's get moving. Hopefully, we'll meet them halfway or in the bunker," Lando suggested.

"Right." With a last look at the droids, Han hurried down the corridor, drawing out his blaster just in case, Lando and Chewie close behind.

* * *

The main group had painstakingly advanced several levels. It seemed as if all the droids in the galaxy had gathered in that building. Five blasters and two lightsabers seemed hardly enough.

"Artoo says he didn't find traces of any meddling with the computers so far," 3PO translated his little friend's beeping sounds.

"Let's be thankful for small mercies," Anakin commented, deflecting blaster bolts like a madman. The broken piece of a droid hit him squarely on the forehead, and a tiny trickle of blood ran down his nose.

"I feel uncomfortable standing here, watching you all protect me," Mon Mothma cried out above the deafening blaster noise. "Any chance I can get a weapon?"

"Your Excellency, it is our duty and our honour to protect you," Madine replied respectfully. "You _are_ already helping, just by staying back and allowing us to do our job."

"Well spoken, but impractical," the President shook her head. "Will you please hand me that blaster on the floor?" she asked her General.

"But, your Excellency..." Madine's eyes opened like two saucers.

"Now." Her voice left no room for objections.

Promptly, Madine complied with his President's order and gave her the weapon.

"Where to next?" Dodonna yelled.

"The lift would be faster," Ackbar replied.

"But if we take it and they're waiting for us when the doors open, we'll be sitting ducks," Luke reminded them.

"True," Anakin agreed with his son. "It will be better if we stay out of lifts."

"It will take us _ages_ to reach the bunker, then!" Rieekan complained.

"Not really," Anakin let out a naughty smile. "If we reach the hangar, we can take the goods lift to the bunker. It goes there directly."

"It doesn't. It never did!" Ackbar contradicted the older Jedi.

"It does now," there was a mischievous gleam in the gentle blue eyes. "I had it installed secretly when we decided to take new security measures to ensure our buildings' safety. You won't find it on any plans."

There was a momentary silence of sheer astonishment.

"Man, you're a gem." Thazzel was the first to speak, his voice dripping with unashamed admiration.

"Thank you," Anakin chuckled. "Tell Han, Chewie and Lando that if they can't make it directly to the bunker, try the hangar detour instead," he instructed his daughter.

Leia nodded, her eyes shining with total awe at the man who had sired her.

"Which way?" Madine asked.

"This one," Anakin indicated, finding himself in front of the team for the first time.

"No, Father!" Luke cried out. "More droids are coming that way!"

"_This_ is the _only_ way," Anakin replied.

Father and Son looked at each other, and it was as if they maintained the quickest conversation through their eyes.

"How do they do that?" Mon Mothma muttered to herself in wonderment.

The two men turned their heads to them in unison.

"Stay here. We'll take care of them," Anakin told them.

Mon Mothma was about to object, but her inner voice overrode the words before they reached her lips. She nodded and with a gesture, ordered her Generals to obey.

Anakin and Luke ventured a few metres into the corridor and assumed a back-to-back position, holding up their ignited lightsabers in one hand, the other arm hanging loosely at their sides.

The droids' steps resounded closer and closer.

A big hand looked for a smaller one and squeezed it. The smaller hand squeezed back with the same passionate intensity.

The inconspicuous but infinitely touching gesture didn't go unnoticed by the expectant onlookers.

Drawing strength from that subtle but fiercely fervent touch, the two Jedi closed their hands around their sabers' handles.

The noises got louder and louder, and everybody sobered in alarm. The number of droids approaching had to be bigger than any group that had attacked them until then.

'_Get back here!'_ Leia sent mentally to her brother. _'Must be at least 30 droids! You won't be able to outmanoeuvre them!'_

Luke smiled as if he had picked up her thoughts, and winked at her. Then, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and straightened up, totally in synch with Anakin's mirror movements.

The droids appeared before them one heartbeat later and on seeing the two Jedi, immediately aimed their blasters at them.

Anakin and Luke began turning around, always back to back. When the droids opened fire, they began deflecting the laser bolts steadily, unfalteringly. There was something mechanical in their movements, non-human; for no human could move with such relentless precision.

The droids spread out, shooting them at will, dozens of blaster bolts a second, and yet they still deflected them, turning around faster and faster.

"I'll be..." someone's voice reached Leia's ears despite the tremendous noise. "Their eyes are _closed_!"

Leia noticed then her father and brother's eyes. They were indeed closed. Sheer instinct was guiding them.

No. Not instinct. The Force. They had synchronized their movements to perfection through the Force. They had truly become one.

As if she hadn't been sufficiently blown away, her amazement reached unprecedented heights when Anakin and Luke began _levitating_ and turning around faster and faster.

It became increasingly difficult to make out their forms, as they got more and more blurry the faster they moved. Leia had to half-close her eyes to try and see them more clearly.

Shocked gasps behind her didn't distract her from the sight unfolding before her entranced eyes.

Anakin and Luke became a devastating tornado that floated one metre above the floor, wiping out every droid that stood in their way.

Everything was over in a matter of seconds. Dozens of droids lay in a smoking pile before the now motionless Jedi, who turned off their lightsabers, looking down at their work, blinking in disbelief.

Little by little, people pulled themselves together and slowly approached them, in total silence. Too stunned to utter a word.

Leia walked up to her brother and stared at the disabled droids. She felt Luke's eyes on her, then he looked back at the droids, and then back at her. She returned his blank look.

"Yes, you can stop looking. You made mincemeat of them all," she answered his unvoiced question.

The young man let out a weak, dazed half-smile and turned his eyes to his father, who returned his incredulous stare, blinking in absolute perplexity.

Thazzel patted the two Jedi's backs warmly, with a wide smile on his face.

"Well done. I feel like calling that 'the Skywalker tornado'."

The others were still too dumbfounded to say anything coherent, so they followed the two Jedi down the corridor, trying not to trip over their own feet.

* * *

Above Coruscant's atmosphere, X and Y-Wings were being methodically blown up by the Star Destroyers' improved laser beams.

"When the Fleet arrives, it'll become these monsters' main course," Kashee cried out.

"I know," Wedge agreed, resigning himself to the fact that they would lose at least one of their frigates the moment it came out of hyperspace. "But perhaps, together, we'll be able to come up with a strategy to defeat them. Rack your brains, my friends."

"I've been turning over an idea in my head for a while now," Vaughan butted in. "Gimme a minute to flesh it out."

"What? Can you think and fly at the same time?" Red Six teased.

"C'mon, guys. You know I can multi-task better than anyone," Vaughan boasted, blowing up a TIE fighter that had just got on Kashee's tail.

"Worthwing, you're the biggest show-o..." was all Red Six could say before exploding in a ball of fire.

"No! Jesse!" Vaughan cried out with shock and horror for the loss of one of his closest friends. "You bastard!" he yelled, manoeuvering his X-Wing to chase the killer.

"The Fleet's here!" Wedge announced. "Vaughan, get back here and maintain your position!"

"I will get that son of a bitch," Vaughan hissed, forcing his ship to its very limit, until it got right behind the enemy fighter.

"We can't afford to lose you, Vaughan!" Kashee tried to reach his distraught friend.

"I know what I'm doing!" Vaughan shouted back.

What was left of the Red Squadron watched in horrified fascination how Vaughan hunted Jesse's killer implacably throughout the most impossible manoeuvres, until the fighter ended up cornered between a huge enemy frigate and a savagely determined Vaughan. The TIE fighter attempted a last desperate pull up, but it wasn't enough. Vaughan shot him with an animalistic scream of victory.

Just when everybody was heaving a collective sigh of relief, the huge laser beam of a Star Destroyer hit Vaughan's X-Wing squarely.

"NO!" All Wings cried out at the same time.

A heartbeat later, the Star Destroyer exploded in flames, blown up by its own shot.

No one could believe what they were seeing. Vaughan's X-Wing was intact. Intact!

"W-what happened?" Wedge stammered.

Still a bit dazed, it took a few seconds for Vaughan to reply.

"I think that laser beam hit the glass of my cockpit, and it bounced back."

"Basic Optics," Red Seven said, automatically remembering his school lessons. "The laser must have hit the polished surface of the glass at such an angle that it was reflected back."

"Which answers the final question to the plan I've been plotting," Vaughan's voice was strangely calm all of a sudden. "We can line up the ring of satellites orbiting Coruscant, and use their crystal panels as a huge deflector shield."

Silence.

"Hey, guys, you still there?" Vaughan asked when no one answered.

"Mr. Worthwing, you are a great asset to the Republic," replied the voice of the Commander of the Fleet. "Give me a few minutes to get the satellites in position."

"Wait a second," Wedge chimed in, struck by a sudden idea. "If Vaughan's idea works, and I think it will, we'll only have one shot at this. The moment those Destroyers see what we're up to, they'll take evasive action and it'll be almost impossible to hit them again."

"What do you have in mind?" Vaughan asked.

"Let's create a diversion. Let's fight them with everything we've got, until the satellites are lined up."

"You're saying that we should use ourselves as bait?" Vaughan quickly caught up with his leader. He grinned dangerously. "I like that."

"And if we can get them to shoot us at the same time..." Kashee was smiling now from ear to ear.

"They'll blow themselves up," Wedge finished for them all.

* * *

Team One was only two levels away from the hangar. They had lost count of how many hundreds of droids they had disabled so far, but even more extraordinary was the fact that none of them had more than a few cuts and scrapes.

"Lucky doesn't even begin to describe it," Leia seemed to read everybody's minds.

Luke and Anakin continued putting droids out of commission tirelessly. If it wasn't a life and death situation, they would be the most awesome sight to behold. They had stopped communicating verbally for some time now. Most of the time, not even a look was necessary. They just acted. Simultaneously. As if they thought the same things at the same time.

Mon Mothma had consented to let them be. It was obvious they were infinitely more efficient when they were on their own, and didn't have to worry about them. Her Generals were covering the rear, and taking care of the few droids that escaped the two Jedi's lethal blows.

Little by little, they were making it to the hangar. But when they were only two corridors away from it, father and son came to a dead stop in unison.

Something was off. Everyone could feel it.

For the first time in a while, Luke opened his mouth and whispered something to Anakin. The older man nodded as he pressed his back against the wall and took a peek at the intersection. He nodded again.

Quietly, Luke walked back to his friends.

"There are droids guarding the hangar doors," he said.

"Do you think they're expecting us?" Thazzel asked.

"I doubt it," the young Jedi replied. "I think they've been posted there to keep anyone from escaping the building."

"How many of them?" Mon Mothma asked.

Luke didn't know, since he hadn't looked, but his eyes became absent for a second.

"About forty," he promptly said.

Everybody knew _who_ had told him that, and how.

"What's your plan?" the President asked.

Luke smiled and looked down shyly. It made him feel terribly self-conscious that the President of the Republic was relying on his decisions.

Anakin's hand settled on his child's shoulder, and squeezed it fondly. They seemed to be connected at a molecular level.

"Just the same as we've been doing so far," he replied. "You stay here and cover our backs, as we take care of the droids."

"You got it," Madine nodded emphatically, getting his blaster ready.

"Father, the doors are 30 metres away. They'll see us coming," Luke reminded Anakin.

"I know," the Jedi master replied. He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. "Well! It has been a long time since I tried my most acrobatic fighting style, but I guess this is as good a time as any." He sighed and made a funny face. He looked at his child and held out his hand courteously. "Shall we, my son?" he invited.

Luke bowed his head, pursuing the light mood.

"Let's go, my father," he replied teasingly.

The two Jedi crossed the intersection and placed themselves in full view. They only had two seconds before the droids spotted them. They looked at each other, and everybody could feel that strange communion of souls taking place again between father and son. Something clicked loudly between them as they drew out their lightsabers, ignited them, and took a Force-enhanced leap together. They landed right in front of the droids, that hardly had time to raise their weapons before a dozen of them fell to the floor, sliced in several pieces.

Their friends were seeing it with their own eyes and it still seemed impossible to believe. It was as if the two Jedi had half a dozen arms each. They blocked the droids' shots, deflected them, and cut up the droids into pieces at the same time. They twisted, turned and jumped at breakneck speed, but always maintaining their position, back to back. They never intruded on the space the other was covering.

Still, it was as if they could _see_ somehow what the other was doing, and they could_ feel _when the other would need them. Anakin suddenly invaded Luke's space when a fallen droid shot point-blank at his child from the floor. He kicked the blaster off the droid's hands, and deflected the blaster bolt to the droid's head, disabling it for good.

They swung their lightsabers round, destroying droids with a brutally devastating precision, but also with a grace and elegance that felt strangely odd. Even out of place.

"It's as if they were executing a dance," Mon Mothma whispered to Leia, her voice dripping with awe and admiration.

Leia just nodded, absolutely speechless. They were simply mesmerizing to watch. If this was the level of unity two people could achieve when they opened up completely to one another, holding nothing back, then she had just found out what she wanted to become one day.

There was peace in them. Even now. Even facing a mortal danger that could kill either of them any second, they were totally at peace, safe in their love for each other. That was where so much strength came from. The thought hit her so abruptly, that she almost fell flat on her back. Nothing would ever be strong enough to separate them, and if one day... her mind recoiled in horror at the mere thought of it, neither of them would survive the other for too long.

Leia shook her head, casting away the morbid thought that she refused to contemplate, even as a possibility.

Watching this, you could almost believe that death was no contest.

Blinking, the astonished Princess realized that everything was over. Every single droid had been rendered thoroughly inoperative, and a huge pile of smoking, broken pieces, made it almost impossible to walk among them.

Nobody said a word as they approached the two silent Jedi. There was nothing to say really, except rejoice in that wondrous connection, and feel blessed by the honour of witnessing it. All of them felt lighter inside somehow, excited like little children. As if they had just seen the resurrection of a myth, the return of something that should never cease to exist.

When the group was reunited again, loud, hurried steps made everybody turn their heads.

Han, Lando and Chewie turned the corner and froze in their tracks on seeing them.

"We wanted to arrive in time to give you a hand," the Corellian raised an ironical eyebrow, walking up to his friends at a calmer pace now, "but I see it wasn't necessary. We only had to follow the trail of massacred droids to find you."

Leia hugged her beloved for all she was worth. These last few minutes had changed something inside her. They had opened a door in her heart that had always been locked, and she wasn't even aware of it. After witnessing such beauty, it was as if the ugliest part of her had been thrown away.

Han returned the hug and looked down at his fiancée, feeling the change in her. He softly caressed her hair and pressed her head to his chest, wondering what had brought this about.

The emotionally exhausted group took a little while to pull themselves together. Some of them hugged, others just smiled at each other meaningfully, and all of them shook each other's hands warmly, grateful beyond belief to see their friends alive.

For a moment, Luke's eyes turned to the hangar doors, and he shuddered from head to foot, not knowing why.

Anakin felt it and grasped his child's forearm questioningly. Luke met his father's eyes and shrugged, obviously not understanding his own weird reaction.

Anakin smiled and squeezed his son's arm reassuringly. Adrenalin was beginning to wear off from their systems. He knew the feeling.

"What are we waiting for?" Rieekan asked all of a sudden. "Until we hear from the Bomb Squads, this building could still blow up at any moment."

"You are absolutely correct," Anakin sobered immediately, and berated himself for the momentary distraction from his duties. They were still in danger. "Let us go."

The group gathered round their President and Artoo opened the hangar doors at Anakin's signal, verifying first that the central computer was still untouched.

The massive doors began to open slowly.

"The goods lift is in the far right-hand corner. You must enter the password 1-1-3-8 to activate it," Anakin informed them all before the doors opened completely.

The group burst into the hangar. Dozens of ships, speeders, and the Presidential Shuttle appeared before their eyes...

...and two hundred battle droids, their weapons ready and aimed at them.

"Oh, my goodness," was all 3PO managed to whimper before the nightmare came alive.

* * *

"NOOO!" everybody cried out when the _Raven_, the Fleet's best frigate, was reduced to dust by one of the Destroyers' massive laser beams.

"300 beings," Green Leader mourned, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Commander, how're those calculations going?" Wedge's voice was edgy and angry beyond belief.

"Just a few seconds more. The computer's about to short-circuit, sorting out so many variables," the Commander replied, just as upset as the Red Leader.

"We can't afford to lose anyone else," Vaughan's voice sounded uncharacteristically clipped and vulnerable.

"Coming up... coming up..." the Commander's voice rose excitedly. "Here it is!" he exclaimed at last. "Stand by to receive all data."

"Roger," Wing after Wing acknowledged the transmission.

"50 seconds to get in position. Lock your computers," the Commander ordered.

All remaining X and Y-Wings forced their ships to the maximum, presenting themselves as easy targets before the six Star Destroyers. They could only hope for them to take the bait.

"30-29-28..." the Commander counted down the seconds it would take them to find out if their crazy plan would succeed or not.

All of a sudden, the Mon Calamari watched in abject horror as two Y-Wings were blown up by TIE fighters. The same Wings that happened to be the baits for Star Destroyer number four.

"Change course to 2-7-2. Fast!" he ordered his navigator.

"But Admiral...!" a controller began, immediately realizing his Commander's intentions.

"Now!" his superior officer ordered. "Let's pray we get in position in time," he muttered to himself.

* * *

Luke and Anakin doubled over involuntarily when they felt the deaths of all those aboard the _Raven _through the Force. That saved their lives, for the droids shot at them first.

Once on the floor, the two Jedi rolled apart from each other, shaking off the shock of their comrades' deaths.

"We'll distract them!" Anakin shouted at his friends. "Take the President to the bunker! We'll join you there!"

Generals Madine, Rieekan, Dodonna and Captain Thazzel almost lifted Mon Mothma off her feet, carrying her to the farthest right-hand corner of the hangar. When they were only twenty metres away from the goods lift, a dark shape emerged from the shadows, pointing at them with a small blaster.

"What do we have here?" Ylek smiled teasingly. "How untimely of you, my friends. Just when we were about to leave."

"You bastard!" Thazzel cried out.

Ylek pulled the trigger and Thazzel collapsed with a moan, a big hole in his chest. His friends ground their teeth, horrified, barely holding back the impulse to help their badly wounded friend, and strangle Ylek next.

"I hate it when insults get personal." Ylek's voice was even and controlled. "But then, I guess all insults are personal. That is precisely the point, isn't it?"

Mon Mothma, Dodonna, Rieekan and Madine set their jaws and met the Twi'lek's cold expression bravely.

"And be grateful that the blaster wasn't set to 'fry,' as I call it. I made a few changes in it, you know? The highest setting could burn a hole in your chests big enough for a Wookie's paw to fit in." He adjusted the weapon's setting with his thumb. "See? _Now_ it's set to 'fry.'" He raised the blaster and pointed it at Dodonna. "Who will be next? You, old man?"

Dodonna squared his shoulders and prepared himself for the inevitable.

That never came. Instead, something fell on Ylek from above, throwing him to the floor and making him lose his weapon.

A very determined Corellian grabbed the Twi'lek and punched him squarely on the face.

"Take her to the bunker!" Han yelled to the already running Generals.

"I don't think so," Keyholm appeared from behind a shuttle, placing a blaster's muzzle on Han's temple. "Hello again, Mr. Solo," he greeted. "Long time no see."

"Stuff it!" the Corellian replied, with his usual bravado.

Keyholm hit him over the head with the butt of his blaster. Han fell to his knees, bleeding from a deep cut on his scalp.

"Tsk, tsk. That was so rude, man!" Keyholm shook his head.

Ylek got to his feet, wiping away the blood dripping down his nostrils, his recovered blaster in hand.

"Let's stop beating about the bush," his eyes flashed with anger and hatred, pointing the weapon at Mon Mothma's head. He made a false apologetic face. "A shame, your Excellency, but..."

From his kneeling position, Han swept Keyholm's legs, making him lose his balance and fall on Ylek. The deflected shot made a big hole on the wall and sparks and smoke came out of it.

Just then, the buzzing sound of a lightsaber announced Luke's arrival. He cut Keyholm's blaster in two and kicked him in the chest, slamming him against the wall. The man's head hit it heavily, and he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

Taking advantage of the commotion, Ylek escaped, sliding under the shuttle.

"You okay?" Luke asked Han, placing his hand on the cut on his friend's bleeding scalp.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Han nodded gruffly. "But he's not," he pointed at Thazzel, still on the floor. "Help him."

The young Jedi hurried to the Captain's side, squatted down and turned him softly on his back. He winced at the sight of the hole in his chest. Bringing a sudden, inexplicable tremor under control, he placed his hands on the gaping wound and closed his eyes.

Lando ran up to them.

"Luke, you must help your father! The droids have cornered him!"

Luke's eyes opened at once. Still, his hands didn't move away from Thazzel's chest.

"The prisoners have escaped," Han informed his old buddy, pointing at Keyholm, knocked out on the floor. "We got rid of this, but Ylek and all the others are in here somewhere, trying to get away."

"This looks like a big surprise party, only with a lot of unwelcome guests," Lando commented.

"All of them," Han made a face of disgust.

Luke stood up, his ignited lightsaber in hand.

"He's all right now," he said, looking down at Thazzel. "Take the President to the bunker," he told the Generals and Ackbar, who had just joined them. "You two and Chewie look for the prisoners."

"Roger-Roger!" Han stood at attention before his friend with a crooked smile. "But first, we must handcuff this creep, in case he wakes up." He knelt down next to Keyholm, and bound his right wrist to the railings with a pair of handcuffs that Chewie handed him.

Rieekan and Madine helped a semi-conscious Thazzel to his feet, and held him up by his armpits, as Dodonna entered the password.

Mon Mothma handed her blaster to Lando.

"I expect you all in the bunker soon. You'd better follow my orders," her look hardened fiercely.

Everybody nodded solemnly, as the President and her escorts entered the lift and the doors closed after them.

* * *

In the meantime, Anakin had been trying to attract the attention of as many battle droids as possible. That way, the President and her escorts would have more possibilities of getting to the lift safe and sound.

He had succeeded, but soon enough, it became obvious that he had attracted more attention than was safe. Jedi or no Jedi, the most gifted in history or not, he couldn't handle 50 droids all by himself.

When he was beginning to seriously fear for his life, he heard a loud clang a few metres in front of him. Artoo had knocked over a barrel of fuel. The liquid spread all over the floor. A few seconds later, all droids were standing on a pool of highly flammable fluid.

Immediately understanding the little droid's intentions, Anakin frantically looked for a spot free of fuel, while deflecting more and more blaster bolts with increasing difficulty. It was only a matter of seconds before a laser shot penetrated his defences.

One of Artoo's little arms reached out, coming into contact with the liquid on the floor. A spark instantly set the fuel on fire. Two seconds later, a wall of fire, two and a half metres high, began to consume the droids.

Artoo rolled to one side, waiting for Anakin to jump over the fire and land safely on the other side.

Nothing happened.

Artoo beeped worriedly.

"What did you do, you stupid lump?" 3PO scolded his small friend.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	9. Chapter 9

Luke had just left Han, Lando and Chewie, and was running like a madman towards his father. All of a sudden, he froze on the spot. Anakin's paralysing fear hit him like a shockwave.

'_Fire! Fire! FIRE! NO! Burning, burning, BURNING! NONONONONO!'_ Anakin's distraught mind repeated time and again, trapped in a spiral of horrifying memories, impossible to shake off.

'_FATHER!'_ Luke called out mentally. _'I am here! I'm on the other side of the fire! You must jump! Don't be afraid! I am here, with you! You're not alone! You will never be alone! But you must jump. NOW!'_

'_Luke! Luke, help me!'_ Anakin implored, in a paroxysm of terror. _'I cannot move! I'm frozen and it's getting closer! I will burn! I will burn to death again! NO! NONONONO!'_

Luke didn't hesitate.

'_I'm coming, Father! I'm coming!'_ he shouted, sending an overwhelming wave of love and reassurance, and jumping over the wall of fire. He landed on the other side, right in front of his petrified father.

Anakin was in a catatonic state. His eyes were open wide and fixed on the flames, lost in a dark corner of his mind, reliving the most excruciatingly traumatic experience of his life. His whole body seemed to have turned into stone. His articulations were rigid, and Luke felt they would snap if he tried to make him move by force.

Their time was running short. He turned off his lightsaber and attached it to his belt. Then, he did the same with his father's, after snatching it out of his stiff hand. Reaching up, he took Anakin's head in his hands and forced him to meet his eyes.

'_Look at me!'_ he commanded, in a tone of voice he had never used with his father before. _'Look into my eyes NOW!'_

Somehow, his mind-voice reached Anakin, wherever his frenzied mind had retreated into. His bulging eyes immediately turned to his child's blue orbs.

'_Don't stop looking at me, you hear?'_ Luke instructed sternly. _'It's just you and me. Nothing but you and me. Nothing will harm you. Nothing! I will not allow it.'_

Almost hyperventilating, Anakin gave a sharp nod.

'_Do you trust me?'_ Luke asked.

'_With everything I am,'_ was the automatic, heartfelt reply, from the depths of Anakin's soul.

Luke crushed the immediate emotional response that his father's words stirred in him. There was no time.

'_Then hold my hand and close your eyes. You will do as I say. You will NOT open them again until I tell you to. You understand?'_ He brought one hand down and clasped Anakin's.

'_Yes,'_ was the shaky, weak reply.

Luke couldn't help moving the wavy fringe away from the wet forehead lovingly.

'_All right. Close your eyes. Now,'_ his mental voice was soothing and comforting, like a tender caress.

Anakin obeyed.

'_Good,'_ Luke approved, his chest constricting with more love than he thought he was capable of feeling. _'Hold my hand tight, and when I tell you, jump with me. Jump high. As high as you can.'_

Anakin nodded again, like a little, frightened, but infinitely trusting child.

Unable to help himself, Luke kissed his father's forehead. Then, he moved away and stood next to Anakin, interlacing his fingers with him.

'_When we jump together, remember to draw out and ignite your lightsaber, for we don't know how many droids will be waiting for us on the other side,'_ he reminded his father.

Anakin nodded for the third time, with more conviction.

'_Okay, here we go. At the count of three.' _ The young man squinted at the brightness of the fire. It was less than two metres away from them. He quickly shielded his father from the instintive fear that gripped his heart. _'Ready?'_

'_Yes,'_ Anakin replied.

'_All right. One...'_ Luke squeezed the big hand, in fierce support. _'You can do it. You WILL do it!'_ he sent all the trust and love he felt for his father in a searing, overpowering wave. _'Two...'_ his muscles tensed, and felt Anakin's tensing beside him as well in preparation. _"THREE!"_ he cried out, both mentally and out loud.

A heartbeat later, they landed on the other side of the wall of fire.

Blindly obeying his son's command, Anakin's lightsaber flew to his hand and ignited halfway.

Thirty droids awaited them, and instantly adopting their back to back position, they began deflecting the fire and decimating them, slowly but relentlessly.

* * *

Meanwhile, from her vantage point behind the Presidential Shuttle, Leia had seen the escaped prisoners trying to make it inconspicuously to one of the ships in the hangar. A small, irrelevant cargo ship, perfect to go unnoticed anywhere. She counted six of them, as they practically tiptoed into the ship, despite the madness around them.

A few seconds later, two more shapes walked up the open ramp.

The Princess approached the fugitives' ship cautiously, a playful, hard smile on her face. It would be a pleasure to catch this bunch of rats like fishes in a net.

"Han, come in," she whispered into the comlink.

* * *

"Do you see that scum?" Han asked his two friends.

"Nope," Lando replied.

Chewie shook his head.

"Dammit!" the Corellian cursed. He felt guilty for not helping Luke and his father, but they couldn't let that disgusting group of traitors get away.

Leia had just told him that eight of them had boarded a small cargo vessel, and they seemed to be waiting for the other three. He doubted they were waiting out of loyalty, but more probably out of fear, especially of Ylek. That Twi'lek bastard had turned out to be a real psychopath. The mere thought that he had been able to deceive them all for so many months, and the fact that he had formed part of the government of the Republic, made his skin crawl.

This was something personal for all of them. They _wouldn't_ escape.

"Number nine, Jayson, just entered," Leia's voice announced through the comlink.

"That only leaves Ylek. Keyholm's out cold and handcuffed to the railings," Han informed his fiancée.

"That creep is too cunning to just get away without trying something first. You'd better find him, just in case," Leia recommended to her friends.

"Right," Han agreed wholeheartedly.

Lando and Chewie nodded at the Corellian, in total agreement.

"Let's see. If I was a psycho and I wanted to leave mayhem here behind me when I escaped, what would I do?" Lando muttered to himself.

"Han, come in. Something's wrong," Leia's voice filtered through the comlink all of a sudden.

"What do you mean?" Han asked.

"I think the Gang of Nine is getting ready to take off. They ignited the retrothrusters."

"And what did you do about it?" Han knew his beloved only too well.

"Oh, not me. Artoo." Leia explained. "He locked them inside, and reprogrammed the ship to take off _after_ introducing a password. The retrothrusters just switched themselves off."

Han's infectious chuckle made Leia smile. Those nine bastards were trapped inside their escaping vehicle. Beautiful.

But then, it occurred to Han that there was something even better than that.

"Tell Artoo..." he began.

"...to secure all the ships in the hangar," Leia finished for him. "He's already working on it."

"Great minds think alike," Han's delighted grin was obvious through the comlink.

Lando tapped the Corellian on the shoulder.

"I got him," he said.

"Where?" Han asked.

Lando shrugged somewhat apologetically.

"Well, I didn't _spot_ him, exactly," he explained. "I figured that hating us as deeply as Ylek does, he'd try to lock us in the hangar, and blow it up behind him somehow when he escaped."

"Sounds nasty enough to be exactly what Ylek would do," Han agreed with his friend. "Let's look for a terminal."

The trio went from one terminal to the next, with no luck.

"This is the last one," Han said, after checking the last terminal. "Either you're wrong, or..."

"No, wait! There _is_ another," Lando suddenly remembered. "He could access the main computer from the goods lift's panel, couldn't he?"

"You're right!" Han exclaimed. "Let's go!"

* * *

"All set, Artoo?" Leia asked the little droid.

Artoo beeped affirmatively, unplugging his little arm from the computer terminal.

"All right. Let's go find Han and the others," the Princess instructed.

On their way, she blasted into oblivion a few droids that Luke and Anakin had missed. For a second, she was entranced again by the sight of her brother and her father, fighting more droids than seemed possible. She guessed they were using the Force to attract their attention, because none of the droids had seemed interested in anything but the two Jedi since the moment they arrived. Their stamina and power of concentration would never cease to amaze her.

Snapping herself out of her admiring contemplation, Leia continued looking for her fiancé and her friends.

* * *

"I'll be..." Han bared his teeth in seething anger, when he took a look from behind a speeder, and saw Ylek and a free and conscious Keyholm bent over the lift's terminal, obviously manipulating something. He exchanged a fast look with Lando and Chewie, who had seen them too. They nodded to him in immediate understanding.

They walked up behind the two traitors, spreading out a little.

"Ahem," Han cleared his throat out loud.

Ylek and Keyholm stiffened, and Ylek turned about slowly, facing them with a nasty expression on his features.

"Hello again, guys," he greeted them.

"I suggest you stop what you're doing, whatever it is," Han smiled, shaking his head. "We've secured all ships and locked the hangar doors. If you intend to blow up the hangar after escaping in one of these ships, you can forget about it. We'll all die here, and you don't seem the suicidal type to me."

"You'd be surprised," Ylek shot back, the corner of his mouth twisting in an ugly, ironic sneer.

"Don't tell me. You have a plan B," Leia butted in, joining her friends and pointing at Ylek and Keyholm with her blaster. She smiled dangerously. "Keyholm, get away from that panel. _Now_," she threatened.

"As a matter of fact, we do," Keyholm replied, obeying the Princess' order and nodding at Ylek.

"See that cargo ship over there?" Ylek asked, pointing at the biggest ship in the hangar.

"That ship is secured too, Ylek." Lando didn't take the bait.

"Not anymore," Ylek smiled, pointing discreetly one of the tiny devices he had in his hand at the ship.

A second later, the main hatch opened, and a big ramp descenced to the floor.

"I fail to see how you intend to escape, since we're holding you at blaster point," Han pointed out.

"That's an easy one," Keyholm replied. "You're going to be very busy, dealing with _them_." His chin moved in the ship's direction.

Mechanical sounds made Han, Lando, Leia and Chewie turn their heads to the ship.

Dozens of droidekas rolled down the ramp, in perfect formation.

"You bastards!"

In an explosion of anger, Leia used the Force to slam the already fleeing Ylek and Keyholm against the wall. She took off running toward Luke and Anakin, who were directly in front of the droidekas, taking care of the few remaining battle droids. They were sitting ducks.

"Luke! Father! Look out!" she cried out.

* * *

The two Jedi had already felt the danger. Thinking - and moving - as one, they threw themselves to the floor, letting the droidekas dispose of the remaining battle droids when they opened fire.

Leia shot at the droidekas, but it was already too late. They had activated their shield generators, and the blaster bolts died on them.

* * *

Although momentarily stunned by their violent slamming against the wall, Ylek and Keyholm still hurried to get away and enter the ship the droidekas had vacated.

Lando, Han and Chewie had had enough. They ran after them and fell on them, delivering all the range of blows, kicks and punches they had. They could have used their blasters, but it was too much anger and too much irreparable damage for the fight to be over so soon. There were too many ugly feelings to release. A few cuts and bruises were no comparison with the hundreds of people who were dying because of those two.

Ylek and Keyholm fought back with everything they had, but it was not enough, especially when they were fighting two very determined and enraged men and a Wookie.

Han revelled in every blow. He punched Ylek's stomach and face as if his very life depended on it. And it was never enough. Even the few blows that crossed his defences and reached him, only fueled his anger.

Beside him, Lando and Chewie employed the same 'treatment' with Keyholm. The man was an expert in street fighting, and he put up one hell of a fight. Finally, losing his patience, Lando kicked the man's privates and that was it. Two seconds later, Keyholm was handcuffed again, howling on his knees, against the hull of a small ship.

A little while later, Han punched Ylek's jaw so hard that he heard the bone crack. Ylek collapsed senseless, like a broken puppet.

"It was about time, dammit!" the Corellian exclaimed, wiping away the blood on his lower lip.

Lando handed him his last pair of handcuffs and Ylek joined his partner in crime.

It was then, when the three friends turned their heads and saw what was happening on the other side of the hangar, that every hair on their bodies stood on end.

Luke and Anakin were surrounded by fifty droidekas that were firing at them at will, with absolutely no chance of winning the battle. Every deflected bolt was useless against their shield generators. They were merely holding back the attack and protecting themselves and each other, but that situation couldn't last for long.

Han barked at 3PO and Artoo to guard the prisoners, and ran as close to his friends as he could, followed by Lando and Chewie.

Leia was shooting at the droidekas like mad, but it was futile.

"Luke! Anakin! It's over!" Han cried out over the deafening noise. "We got Ylek and Keyholm, and the others are locked up in a ship! Get out of there and let's go to the bunker!"

Immediately, a few droidekas turned to him.

"Uh-oh!" Han muttered to himself, running for cover. A round of blaster bolts hit the floor where he had been standing a millisecond before.

Right then, everybody realized that was the key. To distract the droids' attention away from Luke and Anakin, so they could escape. Lando, Chewie and Leia began crying out to the droids and waving at them.

It worked. Some droidekas abandoned their formation and began shooting at them.

"To the lift!" Lando yelled. "Go, go, go!"

* * *

Keyholm tried to take advantage of the situation and attempted a desperate escape, but Artoo quickly extended one of his little arms. The electric discharge was strong enough to render the man unconscious.

* * *

The droidekas moved fast and soon enough, Lando, Han and Chewie, Leia and the two Jedi were fighting four groups of droids that chased them implacably. And so, the most dangerous game of cat and mouse began.

Leia was the first to see the lift, directly in front of her. All of a sudden, a droideka blocked her path, and she had to hide behind a speeder.

Lando arrived next. After catching his breath, he took a quick look.

"Blast it!" he cursed.

"What is it?" the Princess asked.

"I just counted six droidekas blocking the lift's doors."

"Damn!" Leia hit the speeder with her fist.

Lando saw Han and Chewie running up to them, and he gestured for them to look for cover somewhere else. It would be safer for all of them if they spread out.

The Corellian and the Wookie nodded in agreement, and sought refuge behind a small ship on the left.

"They're blocking the lift!" Lando shouted.

"I can see that!" Han replied. "Any suggestions?"

"None whatsoever. This doesn't look good," Lando replied, a dejected edge to his voice.

Han and Leia's eyes met over the distance separating them, and shared a look of love and infinite regret.

'_Father, what are we going to do? We won't be able to hold them forever,'_ Luke's mind touched his father's.

'_I know,'_ Anakin's replied. He made a short pause. _'There is something I saw Barriss Offee and Luminara Unduli try once. They generated a Force field around them and...'_ he began hesitantly.

'_Let's try it!'_ Luke simply said.

'_But, Son, we never tried it before! I have no idea how to do it. How could we possibly figure out...?'_

'_And we'll never have the chance to figure out how to do it if they kill us. We have no choice, Father.' _Luke's mind-voice reminded them both.

'_You're right.'_ Anakin sighed in resignation. _'All right. We'll only have one shot at this. Let's have the others bring the droidekas to one place, where we'll be waiting for them,'_ he instructed.

'_Got you,'_ Luke nodded. _'The centre of the hangar seems the best place. It's mostly cleared.'_

'_I agree,'_ Anakin concurred. _'Warn your sister.'_

Luke concentrated and reached out mentally to his sister. She was quite proficient at telepathy already, but he didn't want to distract her and put her in danger.

'_Leia,'_ he called.

Several metres away, Leia stiffened at the sound of her brother's voice in her mind. She still had to get used to it.

'_Yes?'_ she sent back, bringing down her blaster and hiding behind the speeder. She couldn't divide her attention between the droidekas and mind-talk at the same time, yet.

'_Father's got an idea. Try to bring the droids to the centre of the hangar. We'll be waiting for them there.'_

'_And then what?'_ she asked, less-than-convinced of that so-called idea.

'_Cross your fingers,'_ was all Luke said before shutting their mind-link for the present.

The Princess shook her head. Well, at least one plan was better than none at all. There was nothing else to be done.

She explained Luke and Anakin's plan to her friends. The four of them nodded at each other, and Leia cried out mentally to her brother that they were ready.

'_Whenever you want, Father,'_ Luke said.

'_All right,'_ Anakin took a deep breath, preparing himself. _'Now!'_ he yelled.

The two Jedi jumped over the droidekas and ran as fast as their legs allowed them. Now, it was their friends' job to bring the droids to the centre of the hangar, where they were heading.

Father and Son met a few seconds later. They paused for a moment to catch their breath. Mentally, Anakin explained to his child what they were supposed to do, but he had no idea how. They could only improvise and do what felt right. And above all, trust the Force, their instinct, and their bond.

They attached their lightsabers to their belts and assumed their back-to-back position. It had become second-nature to them to fight like this. Even more so than single fighting. Their different styles had found a way to merge and become more one than they ever thought could be possible.

But now they wouldn't be using their lightsabers. They were relying solely on their capacity to feel the Force and project it in a deadly wave.

Were they really that powerful? Luminara Unduli and Barriss Offee had been, but this was going to be their first time, and they had no idea what they were doing. Their extreme Force gift was irrelevant in this instance.

They concentrated as hard as they could, getting in touch with the Force as they had never allowed themselves before. They reached out with their feelings, opening their hearts as much as their minds.

Their hands moved of their own volition and sought each other. Their palms touched behind them, and they immediately interlaced their fingers. A strange tingling sensation began spreading all over them, as if they were energizing one another. Their eyes rolled and they threw back their heads. Their bodies started vibrating uncontrollably.

* * *

Meanwhile, Han, Leia, Lando and Chewie were taking their time to bring the droidekas where Luke and Anakin waited for them. They wanted to give the two Jedi as much time as possible to prepare themselves, whatever it was they were up to.

Finally, they headed for the centre of the hangar, zigzagging along ships and shuttles.

* * *

Luke and Anakin stood in the exact centre of the vast room. Their bodies shook brutally, frighteningly stiff. Their hands were clasped so tight that they were white. Their eyes were squeezed shut and the veins and tendons in their necks seemed about to snap. They were raw power on the verge of exploding.

Leia froze the moment she saw them. Her eyes bulged and her jaw dropped open. What the hell...? But then, she remembered that she had a dozen droidekas on her tail. She reached out through the Force and felt Han, Lando and Chewie approaching the centre of the hangar from different directions, shooting back at the droids.

They had to synchronize their arrivals to the second.

A heartbeat later, something told her this was the right moment.

"DOWN!" she cried out at the top of her voice.

Immediately obeying her, Han, Lando and Chewie threw themselves to the floor along with the Princess, and rolled to one side.

Not expecting that, the droidekas overtook them. Momentarily disoriented, they stopped, a few metres away from the two still, and apparently defenceless Jedi. Their programming was clear: to destroy. They aimed their weapons at them.

And that was it. Anakin and Luke let go of each other's hands and they thrust them forward violently, palms out, releasing a Force-wave that devastated everything in its path. All droids were thrown backwards and their forms were instantly flattened out, as if an invisible, overpowering mass had squashed them. Even the ships and shuttles closest to the two Jedi suffered the effects of the destructive Force-wave. Everything within a radius of fifteen metres was thoroughly crushed.

It was over in a matter of seconds. The sudden silence in the hangar was almost unbearably loud.

Hardly daring to move a muscle, Leia, Han, Lando and Chewie opened their eyes and took a look around them. Unable to believe what they saw, they jumped to their feet.

Luke and Anakin's eyes opened too, and they almost popped out of their sockets at the incredible sight.

Walking among the squashed remains of the droidekas, the four friends approached the two stunned Jedi, who seemed unable to move, shocked at what they had done.

* * *

"10-9-8..." the countdown progressed relentlessly, as everybody forced their ships to their limit to reach their assigned positions.

"Will we make it?" the Mon Calamary Commander asked the controller nearest to him.

"It's problematic, sir," was the less-than-precise reply that said it all.

"Four-three-two..."

"May the Force be with us," the Commander prayed, closing his eyes.

"One... Zero!"

The next few seconds witnessed a display of terrifyingly lethal fireworks. All six Star Destroyers shot at what they believed to be easy targets, only to see them move away at the last possible second.

That was the last thing they saw, before their laser beams bounced back on the almost invisible satellites' crystal panels, and five and a half Destroyers blew up in a series of massive, bone-chilling explosions.

One of the deflected laser beams wasn't a direct hit, and it blew up a big part of Star Destroyer number one. The lower part of it was immediately attracted by Coruscant's gravity.

The incipient screams of victory were short-lived, as everybody noticed the imminent danger.

"We can't allow this monster to crash into the planet!" Vaughan cried out to his fellow Wings. "C'mon, guys! Let's fry this thing into oblivion!"

A myriad of X and Y-Wings followed the young man in his dizzying descent, trying to prevent the lower half of the Destroyer from plummeting into the surface of the planet.

"Watch your crossfire! We don't want to kill each other while trying to blast that thing down there!" Wedge warned.

Seconds later, all Wings reached the falling Destroyer and shot at it with all their fire power, almost disintegrating it. What was left of it burned in the atmosphere like a shooting star.

"WE DID IT!" a chorus of exultant voices filled the communications channel.

The Commander of the Fleet immediately contacted Mon Mothma.

"Mrs. President, this is the _Freedom_. The threat to the Republic has been successfully neutralized," he announced formally. "We won," he added unnecessarily, the raw, naked emotion in his voice impossible to disguise.

"Well done, Commander," Mon Mothma's voice replied, barely able to hold back the intensity of her feelings. "Well done. Thank you for the most brilliant performance I have ever seen. Your courage and our brothers' sacrifice will never be forgotten."

All those listening closed their eyes, and observed the most respectful silence in memory of all those who had died today, protecting everybody's liberty and right to live in peace and true Democracy.

* * *

In the hangar, Luke and Anakin couldn't seem to stop blushing, as they received the most outrageous congratulations for the _"mind-blowing Force trick they had pulled."_

Han and Lando especially, seemed to be enjoying thoroughly their merciless teasing of the two red-faced Jedi, who didn't know where to look.

Leia noticed then that her comlink was beeping, so she moved aside, to get the message without any loud background noise.

"It was a miracle you didn't flatten us out too, given what happened here," Lando commented, looking at the devastated area surrounding them.

"I cannot explain it, either." Anakin seemed just as much at a loss to understand what Luke and he had done.

"In any case, I'm very happy to keep the same volume," the Corellian cracked, feeling his torso exaggeratedly.

Luke spluttered, shaking his head. Some things would never change, thank heavens.

"YESSS!" Leia cried out excitedly, making everybody turn their heads to look at her.

"What is it?" Lando asked, praying that it was what he was already suspecting.

Leia rushed forward.

"It's over!" She grabbed Luke and Han's arms, and looked at them all one by one. "The Fleet just suppressed the insurrection and the bombs have been successfully deactivated!" She looked up at the ceiling and closed her eyes, sighing out loud. "It's over!" she repeated to herself, as if she couldn't believe it.

The sudden quiet moment was shattered when everybody threw themselves into each other's arms with a cry of joy. It felt as if they had won yet another war against the Empire. Although this time, the war had been against the dark side of the very Republic.

They prayed that everyone had learned their lesson for good this time. Life was too precious, and far too short, for any more lives to be lost because of something as petty as greed, ambition and thirst for power. Because, in the end, everything had come down to those.

All of a sudden, a loud mechanical scream made them move back with a start and listen.

"It's Artoo!" Anakin and Luke exclaimed at the same time, recognizing the droid's unmistakable sounds.

The two Jedi took off running towards the place where the scream had come from, followed close behind by the others. They reached the area where they had left the prisoners, guarded by the two droids.

3PO's right arm had been blasted off, and Artoo had a huge hole in the centre of his rounded body.

Keyholm was lying on the floor, still unconscious; but Ylek had disappeared.

Everybody looked around them, looking for the escaped prisoner. They spread out little by little, beginning their search.

"He's close. I can feel him," Leia said softly to her friends. "But where?" she said to herself. Something wasn't quite right there.

A sudden intuition made Luke look up. Standing on the top of a small shuttle, still handcuffed, Ylek was aiming what seemed to be a small blaster... at his father!

"FATHER! FATHER, LOOK OUT!" he cried out, jumping into the air and covering Anakin with his own body.

Ylek fired.

Anakin and Leia let out a horrible scream. Leia doubled over and fell to her knees, as if the shot had hit her squarely.

Luke collapsed on top of his father, knocking all the air out of Anakin's lungs.

The world seemed to stand still as everybody stared at the gaping hole in Luke's chest as he lay, inert, on Anakin.

"LUKE!" Han yelled, his heart crying out with more pain than he thought he could feel in a million lifetimes. The pain turned into seething anger, and turning about, he shot blindly in the direction of where the blaster bolt had come from. He shot and shot and shot like a madman, not looking, not wanting to see and feel anything but the roar in his blood. A few seconds later, they heard the dull thud of a dead body hitting the floor.

No silence had ever been so filled with abject horror, as they looked down at the young Jedi, half-dead already, lying on top of his shocked father.

Summoning up his strength somehow, Anakin moved out from beneath his child with infinite care, and held him against his chest.

"Luke! Oh, my angel, my little angel, what have you done?" he moaned time and again, rocking him as he would a baby.

Struggling to focus, Luke's eyes rested on his father, shining with love.

"Covered you. Partners are supposed to do that, aren't they?" he replied with a little smile.

Snapping out of his state of shock somehow, Anakin took immediate action. He rose to his feet with his son in his arms.

"Hold on, Luke. Hold on, little one. I'll take you to Sickbay. They'll heal you there. They'll... They will..." Anakin was beyond words, beyond thoughts. He couldn't think, he couldn't hear anything, except the sound of his heart breaking into a billion little pieces.

The older Jedi headed for the hangar doors as fast as his legs allowed him. The sound of his frenetic heartbeat was deafening. It banged on his eardrums mercilessly, and he couldn't hear beyond that. Until the faintest sound reached his ears, and the roaring quieted down.

"Dad. Dad... Dad..."

Anakin's legs stopped functioning and his eyes, that were focused on the doors right ahead, looked down at his child, open wide in absolute horror.

"Dad." A tear rolled down Luke's cheek.

The powerful Jedi dropped to his knees and burst into tears, understanding at last.

"You _knew_! Oh, Force! You knew all along!" he exclaimed.

Luke's deadly pale face smiled peacefully. He nodded.

"It's all right. It _is_ all right," he whispered. His head turned to his friends, who knelt down beside them, their faces reflecting utter shock and disbelief. His eyes rolled for a second, but they focused again on Anakin. "I knew, but I didn't know how... exactly." He smiled in relief. "I was... afraid to die. But I'm not afraid to die... for you."

Anakin broke down and buried his face in his child's shoulder.

"Oh, my goodness! This can't be happening! It can't be happening!" he cried. "My dearest, foolish boy," he moved back and his trembling fingers began caressing the soft cheeks feverishly. "Don't you know that the son must never die for the father? It is the father who must die for the son!"

"You already did that," Luke reminded him. "And I swore I would never go through that pain again."

"And you want _me_ to go through it instead? That is not very kind of you, my child," Anakin smiled through his tears.

Luke smiled at him adoringly. He tried to breathe, but his lungs wouldn't fill. He made an agonizing attempt to draw breath. His time was running short. His eyes immediately turned to his sister and his friends. His family. His greatest treasure.

"Lando," he softly called.

"I'm right here, Luke." The black eyes were red and tears streamed down the dark face. He reached out a trembling hand and caressed the blond hair.

"Take care of them," he swept his family with one look. "They will need your strength. Try to be strong, and when you can't, turn to them for comfort. They will take such good care of you."

"I will," Lando promised, holding back a sob and biting his lips until he drew blood.

Luke nodded and blinked back his own tears. His eyes turned to his Wookie friend.

"Chewie," he smiled weakly and reached out a terribly shaking hand.

Chewie edged closer, wailing and howling softly.

Luke's hand touched the Wookie's fur and scratched it one last time.

"You must be strong, too. For Han, for Leia, for all. I..." he rolled his eyes, in frustration this time. "I wish I had something... illuminating to say, but dammit... I can't think of anything. How... embarrassing," he gasped.

Anakin cradled his son's head in the crook of his arm, making it as comfortable as he could. The backs of his fingers stroked the drawn cheeks endlessly. Part of him was numb, deep in denial. This was too sudden, too unthinkable to be real. His child couldn't be dying in his arms! He had to be in bed, sleeping, deep in the most horrendous nightmare of all.

"I'm cold," the young man moaned all of a sudden.

Immediately, Lando took off his jacket and covered Luke's torso with it.

"Thank you," Luke's eyes softened in gratitude. Then, they turned to his dearest, best friend in the universe.

"Han."

Smiling tenderly, the Corellian reached out and took a cool hand in his.

"Hey," he whispered in an endearingly pathetic attempt to cheer them all.

"You must take care of Leia and my father. I entrust them to you," Luke squeezed the strong hand feebly. "You're like a son for my father. Be with him. C-comfort him. Please."

Han looked up at Anakin. Unable to stand the torment in those blue eyes, he reached out and squeezed the older man's shoulder.

"Luke, I... Luke..." he choked on his words and broke down. For the first time in his life, the cynical pirate with a heart of gold dissolved into tears.

"You're the brother I never had. My big brother," Luke's eyes illuminated in fond remembrance of their years together. "I love you, Han. Thank you for the most beautiful friendship I never dared to dream."

Han shook his head and met the misted blue eyes, unable to utter a single word. His chest was racked with powerful sobs. Nothing had ever hurt so much. Nothing would _ever _hurt so much.

"I love you too, little brother. Always did and always will," he forced himself to speak, cupping Luke's cheek in his hand and pressing his palm against it desperately, wishing for something that was beyond his ability to realize.

Luke cuddled his face up to the warm palm with a faraway little smile.

"Leia," he called, his suddenly unfocused eyes looking blindly for his sister.

The youngest Skywalker grasped her brother's hand, brought it to her lips and began kissing it in despair.

"My dearest Leia," Luke smiled, a look of infinite calm and peace crossing his features. "My journey began the moment I first saw you on a tiny holograph. You became a part of me before I knew you _were_ a part of me. My family. You were always my strength and my focus." His badly damaged lungs fought to keep on breathing, but it was becoming more and more difficult. He knew he shouldn't be alive at this point, but he thanked whatever was responsible for these few minutes with his loved ones.

Anakin sat him up, placing the lolling head on his shoulder with infinite tenderness. The image of his mother as she expired in his arms twenty five years ago, superposed onto his child's, and he thought he would go mad with grief.

Leia hurled herself at her brother and held on to him, as if by clinging to him for all she was worth she could keep him alive. She soaked the collar of his top with her tears. Luke returned her embrace as best as he could, hiding his face in the loose strands of long brown hair, sniffing at it.

"Leia, I would like to give you something," he whispered into her ear.

Leia clung to Luke even harder, as her crying intensified heartbreakingly. Finally, Han had to force her away.

"I want you to have my lightsaber. You must continue what I began." He tried to look down at himself, but a wave of searing pain made him desist. "Take it."

"No!" Leia shook her head.

"Please. Please, dearest Leia. We don't have... much time," Luke begged, an expression of sheer panic crossing his features for the first time.

Giving up, destroyed inside, Leia's trembling fingers unclipped the lightsaber from her brother's belt.

Luke smiled, calmer now, and nodded at her as he tried to reach out one hand.

Immediately, Leia took it in her own and brought it up to her face, caressing herself with it.

"Leia, there is... something I'd like to ask you," Luke's stare intensified, showing how important this request was to him.

Leia nodded in silence, returning his stare and imprinting her brother's touch in her soul forever.

"Please, Leia. Please... open your heart to Father fully. You're all he'll have left when I am gone. Losing me will kill him inside," he looked up at Anakin, wetness rolling down his face once more.

Anakin kissed Luke's forehead, bathing it with his tears. He buried his face in his son's hair, wanting to lose himself in it and die with him.

"Whatever he did to you... to me... to millions of people, is in the past. You only have the present... and the future. You are his entire life. Don't forsake him when he will need you most," he implored.

Leia pressed Luke's palm against her cheek, and her eyes turned to Anakin. And for the first time, she saw him as he really was. A man. A strong, weak, limited, powerful, fallible, brave and intelligent human being, with his strengths and his faults, who was losing what he loved the most... just as she was.

Anakin returned her look, letting her see the depth of his agony, that no one and nothing would ever be able to soothe. Not even her.

And in that searing, unbearable pain that was theirs and only theirs, they found each other at last.

The Princess reached out her free hand and cupped the side of Anakin's face, wiping away the tear tracks on it with her thumb. She looked into his soul, and the final barrier collapsed within her.

Seeing the unspoken permission in the brown eyes she had gotten from her mother, Anakin reached out too, and his hand cradled his daughter's face for the first time. His fingers caressed it all over, revelling in the privilege he had been finally granted.

Leia cuddled her cheek into the loving palm and kissed it, not afraid anymore to return her father's love in a physical way.

And Father and Daughter touched, really _touched,_ for the first time.

"I promise," she vowed to both of them.

Luke took a deep breath. He could go in peace now. He could feel the bond taking deep root in his sister's heart, giving implicit permission to Anakin to open up to her completely.

The three-way link was the most beautiful thing she had ever known, and Leia broke down, realizing they would never be able to enjoy it. She collapsed and sought refuge in Han's arms, cuddling up to him, like a little girl who had lost it all.

Luke's senses began to abandon him, and frantically turning to his father, he reached up and grabbed the front of his top, as if clinging to what remained of his life.

The sight of that big man, crying and sobbing desperately, was more than he could bear. He reached up and caressed Anakin's chin with the backs of his fingers.

"Don't cry, Dad. Please, don't cry," he begged. "It breaks my heart to see you cry."

"You are my heart. You are my soul," Anakin said, holding the caressing hand in his and kissing the palm. "How will I live without you?" Just then, the knowledge that these were his last moments with his son hit him fully. An excruciating explosion of pain took all remaining sanity away from him. He shook his head from side to side. "No. I won't. I _won't_ live without you!" he cried out.

"You must," Luke reminded him quietly. "For Leia, for her future children. Your grandchildren. The next generation of Skywalkers... must be trained. And you are the only one who can do it." He released his hand from his father's grasp and wiped away the tears that streamed down the much-loved face. "And you must live for yourself, too. For all the good things you still can do, for all the lives you will save and influence positively." He looked down for a moment, and finally dared to say the words that would seal Anakin's fate. "And you must live for me. My death must not be in vain, Father."

The words came out harsher than he'd intended, but he couldn't control his throat muscles anymore. He knew he was hurting Anakin beyond belief with those words, but he had no choice. Neither of them had.

Anakin looked away, wounded by those cruel words. He shook his head and looked down into his son's barely focusing eyes.

"I lost my mother. I lost your mother," the tears fell now on Luke's face, and he wiped them away hastily. "I can't lose you too. I cannot!"

Luke smiled sadly and his fingertips felt the soft, wet face he could hardly see anymore. He stroked the smooth, good-looking features all over, reading them and memorizing them as blind people did. His hand stopped when it felt the small wound on Anakin's forehead. He pressed his index and middle fingertips to it, healing it.

Anakin moaned out loud.

"Why don't you heal yourself instead?" he admonished.

The young man smiled again in bitter regret.

"I wish I could, but you know I can't. That was the will of the Force. This... is the final gift I can give you. Don't reject it," he asked.

"I'd die a thousand times before rejecting you!" Anakin exclaimed, taking the trembling hand in his again. "You showed me that generosity, compassion and love could conquer all. They could forgive even _this_," he shook the bionic hand, "and save even _me_. I will never stop believing in miracles, for you are the most wondrous one of all." He framed Luke's face in his palm and covered it with kisses. "My baby, my angel, my beautiful little angel!" Brutal sobs shattered his spirit again.

Anakin's falling apart was killing Luke. Literally. He had to do something. He had to offer some hope, as tiny and insignificant as it was. He had to give his father a reason to want to go on living.

"Don't be afraid. I will always be with you," his voice came out slow and infinitely peaceful. "In here," he touched his father's chest and cuddled up to it, "and in here," he touched his temple. "And maybe... I'll be able to come to you occasionally, like Ben did." He sighed. "It won't be the same, I know, but you know there is no death. I will live... as long as you remember me. A part of me will always remain." He caressed the swollen, bloodshot eyes. "And when your time comes... one day far, far away... I will be waiting for you."

Anakin let out a heart-rending sob and rested his soaked cheek on his child's forehead.

"Don't leave me, my angel. Don't go. Don't go, I beg you!"

Luke smiled, his eyes looking at a spot on the ceiling.

"I love you, Father." He made a final, titanic effort, and moved his head, looking for Anakin's face. He couldn't see it. He couldn't see anything anymore. A growing part of his body was numbed, unfeeling. His lips finally came into contact with something soft and warm, and he bestowed a soft kiss there, putting all the love in his being in the kiss. "I love you, Dad," he whispered. "Oh, Force, I love you so...!" A final tear rolled down his face. "Thank you for... the happiest seven months of my life."

Anakin stiffened as he felt his son's essence beginning to slip away. The shining place that Luke's consciousness inhabited within his mind started to fade away.

"NO!" he cried out, feeling as if a clawed hand was ripping his insides apart. If he lost this he would cease to exist, too. He couldn't live without this precious light! Without Luke's warm presence inside him, making him worthy. Worthy of being alive, worthy of deserving his own dignity and honour. Worthy of love.

He clung to the dwindling light with his very life, ready to follow it unto death.

"NO! You _won't_ leave me!" he ordered, turning Luke's face to his forcefully, scaring everybody. "Look into my eyes! You will look into my eyes, and won't look away until I tell you to, you hear me?" His voice was guttural. Almost inhuman.

And unbelievably, Luke obeyed with a small nod.

"That's it," Anakin nodded. "Don't stop looking into my eyes." The big, powerful body was shaking like a leaf, on the verge of its endurance and its sanity. "I won't let you go. You will stay! You will stay with me and... and..."

Suddenly, the older Jedi realized that Luke's eyes weren't only looking at him. They were also looking _past_ him, into infinity. There was a smile on his lips. A sweet, peaceful, loving smile.

Instinctively, everything he was held on to the white light of his son's consciousness, ready to follow it.

"No_," _he moaned_. "_Stay. Stay! Stay!_ STAY!"_ he screamed.

The white light died away.

Anakin and Leia wailed in unison as the light died inside them too.

A bottomless hole seemed to swallow them. They had never known such emptiness, such unfathomable nothingness in their hearts. This was what it felt like to be dead in life.

Luke's friends crumbled. Han grasped Luke's lifeless hand in his, weeping quietly, as he held Leia to him with one arm, pressing her head to his chest. The Princess was clinging to his vest, barely conscious. There could be no life for her after Luke. No life after losing her anchor and the closest, dearest thing to her heart.

Lando reached out slowly and closed Luke's eyes with the utmost tenderness and respect. As he moved back his hand, he couldn't help one final fond caress to the blond hair. Then, he hid his face in his hands and dissolved into tears.

Chewie looked up and let out a heartbreaking howl as his huge bulk began shuddering uncontrollably.

Anakin was beside himself. He couldn't stop staring at his son. He was petrified. He was dead. As dead as the body he cradled in his arms.

The only movement that revealed he was alive were the countless tears that rolled down his cheeks and fell on Luke's face, like raindrops.

It was his fault. He should have foreseen this! It made no sense that Luke had been the one to foresee his own death. What was the point of Luke's needless suffering? What was the point of Luke's death?

Luke's death.

The mere thought broke something inside him. His frantic mind cried out to their lost link. His head snapped back and he screamed, like a mortally wounded lion demanding the universe to give him his cub back.

He embraced Luke's head to his chest and kissed it all over. His mind spiralled in a whirlpool of incoherent thoughts and shattered love.

He couldn't accept it. There had to be a deeper meaning in this that he couldn't comprehend. There had to be something he could do, even now! That was what made him what and who he was. His refusal to accept things as inevitable. It had been his downfall once, but he had taken the wrong path then. He had turned to the Darkness.

He knew now that the Light was the Truth. Therefore, the Light must hold the answer he so desperately needed. Light was warmth, and compassion, and Love as he had never known. Light wasn't cruel or unfeeling, even if it looked like it sometimes. It was them, imperfect, limited beings, who couldn't see the bigger picture. There _had_ to be a reason why the Light allowed for the best human being who had ever existed to die, sparing someone as unworthy as him.

He had to trust the Light. The Light surrounding them, the Light inside him. That's where the real Truth lay. He carried his Truth, his own answers, deep within.

His eyes turned to the oh-so-loved face and he cupped it in his hand.

'_Padme!' _he called out in his mind_. 'Padme, help me! I need him so! He's my life! Without him, there is no place for me in this realm. Force, help me! I cannot live without my children. I must die first. I have to die first!'_

He closed his eyes tight and pressed his face to Luke's, soaking up the warmth of his skin, the overwhelming feel of his son's body in his arms.

Random thoughts, voices, images and memories coalesced in his brain, in a deafening background of madness. He focused on it, welcoming it. Anything was preferable to the infinite void that filled the place where the purest, most beautifully selfless Love had resided before.

'_Will I ever see you again?'_

'_What does your heart tell you?'_

'_Our baby is a blessing.'_

'_Father, please!'_

'_Come with me.'_

'_Sometimes, there are things no one can fix. You're not all-powerful, Ani.'_

'_I should be. Someday I will be. I will be the the most powerful Jedi ever. I promise you. I will even learn to stop people from dying.'_

'_Luke's not the greatest Jedi ever and neither are you. The two of you _are_ the greatest Jedi ever.'_

'_The two of you _are_ the greatest Jedi ever.'_

'_I will even learn to stop people from dying.'_

'_I promise you.'_

'_I felt as if a soft breeze had brushed my soul. And it felt like you.'_

'_Do you feel any different?' _

'_You changed something inside me. You passed on something to me. I can feel it.'_

'_Maybe it's something you needed, or will need in the future.' _

'_Whatever it is you did for me, we'll find out in its own good time.'_

'_In its own good time.'_

'_I will even learn to stop people from dying! _

'_From dying!'_

'_Maybe it's something you needed, or you will need in the future.'_

'_You will need in the future.'_

'_You passed on something to me.'_

'_I promise you.'_

'_I PROMISE YOU!'_

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Anakin's scream went on and on and on, until his throat was raw. He pulled Lando's jacket away from his son's body, revealing the huge hole in the centre of Luke's chest.

Instinct! He had to follow his instinct, and his Love, and the voices in his head! If he stopped now he would lose it all.

Gently depositing his child on the floor, he covered the hole with his palms, pressing down.

"You won't go! You won't leave me! You will come back to me!" he exclaimed, tears running unnoticed down his face in rivulets. "Come on, Luke! Come on, little one! Come back to me! Come back to me!" he began chanting.

He lost track of time, calling upon the Light to assist him, to guide him, to show him the way in the darkness of a lifetime without his greatest blessing, lifeless on the floor beside him.

He suddenly felt someone's hands on his, trying to pry them away from Luke. He shook them off roughly.

"NO!" he barked. "He will come back. I will bring him back! He shared his healing gift with me that morning. I understand now." He paused a second to brush his sweaty palm across the soft fringe, and caressed the smooth face with his fingertips. "Show me how to do it right. Show me, my son! Don't go away just yet. Wait for me. I will bring you back." He placed his hand back again on Luke's chest and redoubled his efforts.

Everybody looked at the distraught Jedi, terribly upset by the disturbing scene, not knowing what to do or say. Anakin was beyond reality, deep within his insane fantasy that he could bring Luke back. But no force would make him stop. He would go on, until he passed out or died.

"Come on, my boy! Come back to us! You have so much to show me. I have so much love to give you. Everything will be even better than before. You'll see." An endless stream of tears poured out of his eyes.

Han cuddled Leia, trying to shield her from the shockingly violent sight of her father, almost gone by now, convinced that he could resuscitate his child. He understood the older man's need to believe, to hope against all hope, but... Wiping away his own tears, he looked at Lando and Chewie, regretting it immediately. The horrified expressions on their faces unsettled him even more.

As crazy as it could seem, Anakin's contorted features were the only ones that transmitted what he needed the most at this very moment.

Faith.

"Come on, Luke! Don't do this to me!" Anakin continued unrelentingly. "You shared your gift with me, show me now what to do with it! I won't stop until you come back." He was sweating and panting, on the brink of a physical and emotional breakdown. "Please, please, my baby! Come back to me. Come back to me. Come back to me..." the litany was back, as he pressed down even harder. "You will come back to me. You _will_ come back to _me_. YOU-WILL-COME-BACK-TO-ME!" he yelled, with the last spark of sanity he had left.

The five of them jerked back with a muffled scream when Luke's eyes opened wide all of a sudden, and his body sat up with a start. The young man began drawing deep and fast intakes of breath, filling his lungs with badly needed oxygen.

Their eyes were instantly drawn to the hole on the young Jedi's top. Pink flesh could be seen beneath, where before there had been a hole big enough for a fist to fit in.

No one could blink. No one could breathe. No one could believe it. They just stared at Luke's face getting its colour back, as he breathed more and more easily.

Finally, Luke swallowed the lump in his throat and turned his head. He looked at his friends, who gazed at him, their eyes bulging open, in a state of shock. They didn't dare to move. They didn't dare to touch, in case they were dreaming.

Leia was the first to react. She could feel the warmth of her brother's lifeforce within her mind again. It was no delusion. It was _real_. As real as he was, sitting up right in front of her.

She reached out a shaking hand, and touched Luke's cheek. She trembled and let out a little groan, a part of her still refusing to believe the miracle.

Luke's eyes filled with tears, and he reached up, holding Leia's hand in his.

"Hello, little sister," he greeted her self-consciously, kissing the back of her hand.

Letting go, Leia hurled herself at her brother. The two siblings hugged desperately, so hard they almost cracked each other's bones. The lightsaber clattered on the floor, forgotten.

Slowly realizing they weren't dreaming, Han, Lando and Chewie reached out hesitatingly and touched Luke, comfirming the wondrous reality.

Luke's head moved up from his sister's shoulder where he had buried his face, and smiled at them shakily. He reached out one arm at them and that was it. There was no stopping the heartfelt, devastating embrace between them all.

Anakin watched the scene, his mouth half-open. He looked down at his hands, that suddenly felt alien to him.

He had done it. He had healed his son. He had healed Luke.

No. More than that. He had _resurrected him_. He had brought him back from the dead!

The concept felt surreal. Even preposterous. But it was exactly what Luke had done with him only a few months ago.

He felt eerily disconnected from the here and now. Disconnected from his own feelings. His eyes turned to the sight before him. Luke, passing from Han's loving arms to Lando's, and from them to Chewie's.

And then, it was as if a door burst open inside him. Luke's living essence filled the hole in his heart and his mind with light and joy.

Force, he had never known such need! Everything he was cried out for the comfort of Luke's touch. He felt as if he had aged a lifetime in the last few minutes.

He hugged himself as an implacable, merciless cold wrapped itself around his being.

Luke shuddered savagely, and immediately turned to Anakin. His features softened, and all of him illuminated from within with love. The most sublime, all-encompassing love.

He knelt up in front of his father and reached out. His hands rubbed the cold arms, stroking up the long limbs.

The moment Luke touched him Anakin returned from the chilly place where he had retreated into. His eyes focused again on his child, and a hopeful, wistful smile lit up his face.

Luke's eyes misted once again, and tears began to flow down his cheeks. His hands moved up to Anakin's head. Their eyes met.

It was the most glorious communion of souls. They merged until there was no part of them that wasn't a part of each other.

Luke bent forward and his lips brushed Anakin's forehead like the soft wings of an Alderarian butterfly. Then, following his heart blindly, they settled on the awfully swollen and reddened eyes that had cried so much for him today, and kissed them deeply, lingeringly, wishing to take upon himself all the horror and agony his father had suffered.

Moving back just enough to meet those eyes again, his thumbs wiped away the tears on Anakin's cheeks. He didn't know it could be possible to feel so much pain, so much love, and still be alive.

"I love you," he whispered to his father. "Thank you for bringing me back."

And those were the words that released Anakin from his invisible, icy chains. He unfurled himself and crushed the smaller body to his chest.

"My baby!" he exclaimed. "My precious little angel!" His lips began kissing the boyish face everywhere. "I love you. I love you so much!"

Luke returned the primal embrace for all he was worth. He enveloped his father in his arms, dispelling both their fears in the most basic way, flesh to flesh.

They clung to one another, unwilling, unable to let each other go. They pressed hard against one another, uttering incoherent words that made no sense, except to them. They held. Closer. Tighter. It was never, NEVER enough.

They were, literally, each other's life. They were One. The greatest Jedi ever, as Leia's incredibly powerful insight had rightly foreseen days ago.

As a myriad of X and Y-Wings flew on Coruscant's sky, drawing rainbows and setting off fireworks in the sunset, reassuring the population that cheered them from their balconies that they were safe, and Peace was safe once more, no fireworks, no rainbows, and no extravagant explosions of joy were purer and more honest than the quiet, silent image of the two Jedi who, lost in each other's arms, rejoiced in the miracle of life and the only power that truly bound the Universe together.

Love.

TO BE CONCLUDED...


	10. Chapter 10

EPILOGUE. ONE MONTH LATER.

The Senate was filled to capacity. In the centre of the immense Hall, the President of the Republic, flanked by her Vice-President, was decorating all the pilots and Commanders who had participated in the battle against the Rebellion.

Vaughan Worthwing accepted the medal around his neck in as dignified a manner as he could, but tears escaped his eyes when Mon Mothma handed him Jesse Bilani's posthumous medal for bravery, in a gold and dark blue velvet box. Anakin Skywalker shook the young man's hand and squeezed his shoulder affectionately, sharing his pain.

When the President and the Vice-President returned to their posts and bowed their heads to the decorated pilots respectfully, honouring their bravery and courageous sacrifice, everybody rose to their feet and burst into applause.

When the thunderous standing ovation subsided, Mon Mothma walked up to the stand. On cue, everybody took their seats. The President's executives sat behind her in a fan-shape, except for Anakin, whose seat stood out slightly apart from the others and closer to his President. He looked impressive in his navy blue dress uniform.

Bursting with pride, Luke looked at his father from behind, momentarily lost in his love for the man who meant so much to him. This was a man he was proud to call 'father,' proud to be known as his son; and he was happy beyond belief for all the years they still had ahead. Years together. The only thing he had ever wanted.

A small hand grasped his softly, and the young Jedi smiled, squeezing his sister's hand, nodding imperceptibly at her, their thoughts totally in tune with each other.

As one, Luke and Leia sent to their father a warm tendril of thought, full of love. Anakin's body didn't seem to acknowledge his children's adoring mental wave, but the two siblings felt in their minds their father's answering smile and equally powerful wave of love and devotion. The three drank from the precious feeling they wanted to cradle to their hearts forever.

"Gentlebeings," Mon Mothma began her speech in her usual gracious manner, drawing everybody's attention. "We are gathered here today to honour those who protected us and our way of life, and to pay our respects to those who lost their lives in the attempt. Their selfless sacrifice will never be forgotten." She made a brief, heartfelt pause, and her gaze swept her attentive audience. "But we must not forget what brought this on. Ugly feelings like envy, resentment, hatred, greed and pride. In the end, everything came down to those." She took a deep breath. "We should know better by now. Hatred only begets more hatred." Her gaze intensified. "The choice is simple. Either we put an end to these violent, vengeful acts, or they will be our undoing."

She looked down at her interlaced fingers, feeling her Vice-President's eyes on her, caring and full of support. Snapping her head up, she grabbed the sides of her stand.

"I know there are millions of people looking at us right now, who don't agree with some decisions I made when I formed a government." She braved her audience's stare resolutely. "I made those decisions for the common good. A President must make the _right_ decisions, even if they are unpopular, _if_ those decisions are _just_."

The echo of her voice faded as the pause stretched on. The ensuing silence was deafening.

"This government is still young and yet, it faced the hardest test any government can possibly face: the threat of its own destruction from within. A familiar scenario, as you will recall." She arched an eyebrow pointedly. "And just like before, blood, pain and death have been the consequences. Thank heavens, on an infinitely lesser scale this time. Still, hundreds have died uselessly. There are new broken families, orphan, widowed, parents who have lost their children... and what for?"

Her question resounded in the Senate's walls, unanswered.

"I can understand that many of you have your rightful doubts, who are distrustful. All we ask of you is to let us prove ourselves. We are here to serve you, to care for you and protect you to the best of our abilities. Only time will tell if this government's choices were successful or not."

All of a sudden, her features hardened. Her next words were spoken with all the authority of the President of the Republic.

"This is a legitimate government, and as such, it will not tolerate any outbursts of violence or any rebellion that threatens its stability. There are appropriate channels to express one's disagreement with one's politicians, but resentment and feelings of revenge will have to be dealt with privately, because the violent expression of those feelings is a crime. Nothing more, nothing less. This is a Democracy!"

"For the most skeptical among you," she went on after a pause to collect her thoughts, "I want to say this: I am aware of the fact that we're asking you to make a huge leap of faith. I know that the mere sight of some members of my government must be repugnant to you. But if someone you know went astray, and one day returned, begging your forgiveness and more important, _showed_ you they had changed, wouldn't you give them a second chance, knowing how much good they could do?" She nodded emphatically. "I _do_ believe in second chances. I _do_ believe in redemption and forgiveness. Because in those people's redemption also lies our own. If we deny them the opportunity to redeem themselves, we won't only be condemning them forever, we will be condemning all those who could benefit from their good deeds in the future. And we will be denying ourselves the opportunity to know them, to learn from them and become better people."

Mon Mothma's eyes turned to Areen Worzzlek, who looked at her through misted eyes, hardly daring to hold her gaze. Beside him, Captain Thazzel squeezed the older man's forearm affectionately, in a warm and sincere gesture that said it all.

"This crisis taught me a few lessons that I will never forget," she continued, looking ahead again. "It is harder to forgive the more we've been hurt, especially if we've been hurt or betrayed by someone we trusted and loved. Someone close to us." She blinked several times, struggling to keep the tears at bay. "But I can tell you this, from my own experience. There is no force more powerful in the universe than the power of forgiveness. It's purifying, it's cleansing, for both parties involved. It demands an infinite generosity, it demands of us to let go of feelings we _need_ to cling to, to go on living. Even to survive. But those feelings are a poison that will destroy us in the long run, slowly but inexorably. Deep down, we know that."

She took a deep, shaky breath, not afraid to share something so private. Something told her that all of them needed this catharsis. A common ground from where the entire galaxy could make a fresh start.

"Forgiveness is the best place to start our new life, together. Forgiveness is peace. Within and without."

Her eyes softened.

"Gentlebeings, open your hearts, for that is our only hope. The alternative is surrendering to hatred and violence, and we all know where that road will lead us all."

Anakin looked at his President, his heart beating wildly in his chest. Her speech was moving him to the core of his being. This was the leader of a lifetime. Charismatic, just, compassionate, understanding and wise. It was his honour and privilege to serve as a member of her government. She wasn't afraid to tackle the trickiest issues, and let people see the truth for themselves. A true leader didn't patronize their people or belittle their intelligence, but appealed to the truth _in_ them, letting them come to their own conclusions. It was the only way for a true Democracy to survive.

For his part, Luke's heart was just as full. His senses were picking up positive reactions from all over the place. People were letting Mon Mothma's words seep into their beings and illuminate them with their truth and wisdom.

But he was no fool. He knew that millions of people all over the galaxy had a real moral problem coming to terms with this governments's more controversial decisions. There still was a lot of pain, anger and resentment lurking in many hearts, and those feelings could drive some people to do something harsh.

He could only hope they were given time to prove themselves, as their President had asked. Only time would bring peace to those souls and put their fears to rest.

In the meantime, the young Jedi soaked up the positive feelings around him, drinking from the love and gratitude Anakin was sending his way, returning them tenfold.

Then, he felt _it_.

Something wasn't quite right. Luke felt his sister stiffening beside him, and he knew Leia had felt it too.

Instinctively, the two siblings looked around them, trying to find out what it was.

Everything was perfectly normal. Everyone was sitting still, listening intently to Mon Mothma's speech. The Security guards stood calmly at their posts. Obviously, they hadn't detected anything out of the ordinary.

Luke and Leia looked at each other after scanning their surroundings. Something was most definitely wrong.

In a flash of insight, just like the one he experienced when Ylek almost shot his father, Luke looked up.

A black shadow crept in between the niches and rafters that supported the Senate's roof. It stopped when it was directly above them. Then, it seemed to crouch and tense, as if preparing itself to... to jump down on them!

A heartbeat after her brother, Leia saw it too.

"LOOK OUT!" the two cried out in unison.

Anakin's senses picked up a disturbance in the Force one second before his children shouted their warning. Strangely, something told him to keep calm, not to fight what was about to happen.

The shadow jumped down and landed right behind the older Jedi, who was already rising to his feet. Drawing out something metallic and sharp, the huge being pressed it to Anakin's throat, as a young voice, sounding more than a bit disturbed, began crying out.

"Back up! Back up, you hear me? Stay away from us! Stay away!"

The next few seconds were a blur of screaming and shouting, as shocked and terrified people ran in all directions, trying to escape the unknown threat.

Mon Mothma's executives stood up as calmly as they could manage, considering their options.

Han, Lando and Chewie looked at each other. With a few nods and gestures, they quickly came up with a plan. They had no weapons, but between the three of them, and if Anakin, Luke and Leia played along and tried to distract that maniac, they had their chances of making it work.

Mon Mothma refused to be taken away by her bodyguards. She immediately realized what was really going on there, and she obeyed the newcomer's barked orders and stayed back, her mind frantically considering every possible alternative.

The hysterical stranger wore tight, black top and bottoms. He had long dark hair and huge green eyes. But what really impressed them all was the man's size. He was at least two metres tall and in evident good shape. His left arm was wrapped around Anakin's torso in a vicelike grip, and his right hand held a large jackknife to Anakin's throat as if his very life depended on it. He continued yelling at everybody to back up, seemingly unable to think of anything else.

"Do as he says. Do as he says!" Anakin's strangled voice commanded everyone, his friends and children included. _Especially_ his friends and his children. He didn't want anyone to get hurt, trying to protect his insignificant life.

The Jedi master's eyes momentarily met his President's, and Mon Mothma shuddered inside, as Anakin's words to her, spoken merely a few weeks earlier, suddenly resounded in her mind, triggered by that sad, infinitely accepting look.

"_My past will catch up with me one day, and then... everything will be over. I pray that the day that happens, my children and everyone else will be spared."_

'_He knew! Oh, my goodness. He knew this would happen!'_ she thought, horrified.

Anakin smiled softly at her and then, his gentle blue eyes turned to his children. Only then, the peaceful serenity his features conveyed wavered, at the sight of the naked panic on Luke and Leia's faces.

More seconds passed and no one moved anymore. Everyone understood by now this wasn't a terrorist attack, but a mentally unbalanced man carrying out a personal vengeance.

The young man's eyes moved rapidly all over the crowd, checking that no one was attempting a foolish rescue of the... creature he had totally at his mercy, at last. At long last!

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a man taking a hesitant step forward. He tightened his hold on Anakin and pressed the knife to his neck even harder.

"You, hero! Don't come any closer, you hear me!" he cried out.

"Hey, take it easy, fella," Han reassured him, "take it easy, will you? I won't get any closer."

"You'd better not," the green eyes flashed with a spark of insanity, "or I'll have to kill this bastard sooner than I'd like to." He bared his teeth. "And believe me, I just can't wait to slit this monster's throat!"

Anakin tried to get his breathing and heartbeat under control, but it seemed an impossible task. His children's raw fear resonated deep within him, and he couldn't shield from it.

But there was no time to regret the anguish and pain he was causing his loved ones.

"So, Darth Vader," a quiet voice hissed into his ear. "I finally got you where I wanted, after fifteen years. Isn't revenge sweet?"

Anakin bit his lower lip and remained silent.

"Isn't it?" the young man insisted, impatience tinging his voice.

"Revenge is never sweet. Revenge is bitter, and sad," a compassionate, caring voice resounded in the Senate.

The young man looked at Luke, and his lips twisted in an ugly, nasty smile.

"Why, look who's here," he sneered. "The Son of the Beast," he clicked his tongue. "Hello, Sonny," he greeted disdainfully.

Luke dared to take a tiny step forward.

"My name's Luke. What's yours?" he asked.

"You can call me... Reborn." Hatred poured out of the tall man in waves. "The person I was died when your daddy dearest slaughtered my family before my eyes when I was ten."

Luke and Leia closed their eyes, as the impact of the young man's words hit them in all its brutal ruthlessness.

"I'm so sorry," Luke shook his head and opened his eyes, regarding the stranger with overwhelming sympathy. "What a horrible trauma for a child."

Something moved behind Reborn's eyes, but he quickly shook it off.

"Spare me your condolences. They're as useless as the life of this son of a bitch." He pressed the blade to Anakin's neck, relishing the expressions of fear in everybody's faces every time he did that. All of a sudden, his eyes opened wide and, after looking around him, he whispered to them. "Oooooh, and don't bother trying any mind-tricks on me. My race's immune to your Jedi powers. Besides, any brusque movement would be too dangerous to Big Daddy's wellbeing." He shook his head contemptuously. "In any case, this bastard's dead anyway."

The young man's exaggeratedly open eyes skittered everywhere, unable to stay focused on one single spot for more than a few seconds. His gestures and reactions were erratic and sharp, just like his speech patterns and mental processes. His precarious mental condition was painfully apparent. And that made him practically impossible to deal with.

"But first, I want to hear this monster beg!" the suddenly piercing voice made everybody jump. "Just like my parents begged him not to kill them before me." He jerked Anakin back and forth, with superhuman strength. "Come on, Vader! Beg! Beg me for your life!" he taunted.

Leia winced at the sight of the knife pricking the flesh on her father's neck, after so much shaking. A trickle of blood ran down Anakin's throat.

Her heart pounded wildly in her chest. They couldn't just stand there! They had to do something! They had to save her father before it was too late!

The sudden fierceness of her feelings took her totally by surprise. She blinked hard, trying to clear her head.

And just like that, she _knew_.

She loved her father. She cared for him. She loved him so much that the thought of losing him was... unbearable.

She swayed on her feet, blown away by the power of her love.

When did that happen? When did her heart open up so much to that man who looked at her with so much love that it hurt to see?

She felt Luke taking hold of her hand and squeezing it fervently, transmitting his joy at her realization. She squeezed back, apologizing for all the time it had taken her to open up to the truth he had known so early. Luke squeezed her hand again, reassuringly.

Why did that young man call her father Vader? Her father wasn't Darth Vader anymore! Everything inside her flinched at the sound of that ugly word, so _wrong_ it felt.

"You will not beg, Lord Vader?" Reborn barked, drawing them all out of their musings. "You'd rather become a martyr before everybody's eyes? Do you want me to put an honourable end to your despicable life? Is that what you want? Do you want _me_ to look like a monster instead of you?" He moved the knife away from Anakin's throat and slid the tip of the blade down the older Jedi's left cheek. "Or do you think you're better than me and will not lower yourself to beg me for your life? Do you consider yourself superior?" His eyes skittered everywhere again, as he momentarily lost grasp of reality. "Or do you think I'm crazy? Huh? Is that what you think?" he yelled, shaking Anakin again, the jackknife getting dangerously close to his eye.

"He doesn't think that," Luke's voice resounded again, even gentler than before.

"Oh, he doesn't?" Reborn asked teasingly. "Does he think he's better than my parents, then? Braver than them?" Anger and hatred beyond belief contorted his features.

"No," the young Jedi's eyes misted momentarily. "He's not begging for his life because he doesn't think he deserves to live." Luke's eyes met his father's across the distance separating them, and at that single moment in time, they had never been so close.

Anakin's poignant smile couldn't disguise his quiet pride and love for the boy he had sired.

Luke had _always_ known.

"Really?" Reborn seemed honestly surprised at the young Skywalker's confession. "So, if I kill him, I'll be actually doing him a favour, right?" he smiled excitedly.

"No." Luke shook his head, his glittery eyes roaming his father's face.

"Why not?"

"Because if you kill him, you will kill me too," Luke simply stated, blinking his tears away. "You see, I love him."

"Oh, yeah. Sure you do." Reborn moved his head mockingly. "I've seen your cheesy, nauseating displays of affection on the holos. They made me sick!" he exploded. "How can you love this abomination? He cut off your hand, man! The whole galaxy knows that. Your own father cut off your hand! How can you love him? How can you stand being in the same room as he?"

Luke just smiled, love illuminating his features.

"There is no logic in that, I agree. I cannot explain it, either. But that is the way I feel." He shrugged, frustrated with his own incapacity to make himself understood. "As a child, I would have given anything to have my father with me. When I found out that my father was alive, the loss of a hand seemed a small price to pay, if I could get him back, and love him, and have him love me." He closed his eyes, and tears streamed down his cheeks.

Reborn swallowed compulsively several times, struggling to think rationally. Finally, seething anger flashed in his eyes again.

"But I have no father! He took him away from me and I will never get him back, like you did! He killed him!" he shrieked. "Do you know what he did?" he spat, his voice dropping an octave. "He broke my mother's neck, and when my father protected me with his own body and knelt before him, begging him not to kill me, he cut off his head with his lightsaber! My father's head rolled up to my feet!" He shook his head from side to side, hitting his forehead with the ball of his hand repeatedly, as if trying to get rid of a permanent, frozen image in his mind. Spit ran down the corners of his mouth, unnoticed.

Luke's face twisted, as the shockwaves of the young man's torment penetrated his mental shields. His eyes reddened helplessly. He was reliving Reborn's nightmare through his unconscious projection.

"Do you know why I'm here today?" Reborn continued, his memories gushing out of him in a flood now, unstoppable. "Because I wet myself, and more." Shame coloured his features. "He looked down at me and said, _'It is not worth it.'_ And he walked away, leaving me alone with my parents' dead bodies. I'm alive because I lost control of my bowels!" he shouted hysterically.

Anakin trembled from head to foot, as Reborn's tale reminded him of one of his million past crimes, long forgotten. Never mind the reason that had taken him to Reborn's home that fateful morning. There were thousands of people all over the galaxy who could tell Reborn's same story, with slight variations.

He had traumatized that boy for the rest of his life. He had destroyed his spirit and his mind. He would never reach his full potential. He would never be the man he was destined to be. He would never live a normal life, with friends, a wife and children of his own.

He hadn't just destroyed that young man's life that morning. He had destroyed his future and all the possibilities he had brought with him.

He had destroyed millions of futures and possibilities that would never come to be.

Force, he couldn't stand this! He wanted to die. He wanted to find merciful oblivion in death. He didn't want to soil his children by sharing their same name.

"I wish I could ease your pain and make it bearable!" Luke exclaimed from the bottom of his heart. "I wish I could heal your soul and give you back your life. Nothing any of us ever say or do, will be of any help to you." His arms fell to his sides dejectedly. "But there is something I _do_ know. Revenge won't make you feel better. Killing my father won't give you your parents back. It won't give you peace. _True_ peace. Believe me, I _know_."

The young Jedi looked down and bit his lips, fighting back all the demons that surged up to haunt him all of a sudden. His head jerked up suddenly.

"For some time, I thought Darth Vader had killed my father," he confessed, braving those bottomless green eyes. "A part of me was as full of hatred and lust for revenge as you are. I relished in all the ways I could kill the monster who had murdered my father." He smiled bitterly, shaking his head. "And one day, I found out the truth." He closed his eyes against the memories of that time and swallowed hard. "Then, I had to face the beast inside me and learn to tame it, if I wanted to survive; if I wanted to keep my sanity. I had to find a way to release my hatred, if I didn't want it to destroy me and drive me insane." Tears rolled down his cheeks. "And forgiveness was the way." He sniffed. "I didn't forgive my father for his sake, but my own. Because I couldn't go on like that anymore. And the moment I opened my heart and let go of all that ugliness inside me, everything took on a whole new meaning." He smiled hopefully. "Forgiveness gave me the insight to believe in the goodness in my father's heart. It was crazy, I know, but I chose to believe in him, and it turned out I was right. I reached out to him out of sheer faith, and look at us now." He put out his hand and his eyes worshipped Anakin, never afraid to show how much his father meant to him. "If I had killed him, I'd have gotten my revenge, but I'd have never known the kind of love we share today. A love bigger than both our lives. A love that has saved thousands of lives already, including our own."

He looked up at Reborn with loving compassion.

"Revenge is not sweet, my friend. It won't heal the wounds in your soul because at the end of the day, you will still be alone with your pain, with the emptiness of your losses."

Reborn winced, as he desperately tried to hold back his tears. His eyes became elusive, trying to avoid looking at Luke.

"The only thing that will give you peace is acceptance. Acceptance of what happened that day, acceptance that you can't go on like this anymore and need help. And courage to face the rest of your life, braving your nightmares head-on, like all of us do. My father more than anyone." He reached out. "Let us help you."

The young man's face contorted in a mask of pain and anguish, and he began shaking his head again.

"Shut up. Shut up! SHUT UP!" he cried out. "Don't you _see_? No one can help me! I am beyond help! My only purpose in life is saving us all from this monster." He placed the blade of the knife on the side of Anakin's neck. "The fact that he's still alive is an offense against the millions he murdered! I'm sorry if you love him, but that's not my fault." He tensed his arm, his next action terrifyingly obvious.

"Please!" Luke moaned in the weakest voice, all reason gone at the sight of that hand, ready to take his life away from him. "Do you hate me that much to do to me what he did to you?"

Reborn's hand froze. His eyes met the young Jedi's, and a ray of sanity seemed to shine in them for a second.

"What?" he asked.

"Do you want to subject others to the same horror you witnessed? Don't you see how useless this is? Do you want this spiral of horror and blood to go on forever?" Luke trembled like a leaf. He seemed about to collapse.

Reborn's respiration accelerated alarmingly. The knife shook in his hand.

"I... I..." he stuttered.

"I know I have no right to ask you this, because a part of me actually understands your need for vengeance. Force help me, I _do _understand it!" Luke almost screamed, his voice sounding disturbingly vulnerable and a bit out of control.

And then, Luke Skywalker, Jedi knight, dropped to his knees.

"No, Son. No!" Anakin moaned to himself, going limp in Reborn's arms at the sight of that brave, upright and decent young man humbling himself, begging for his father's life. The unworthiest life of all.

"I beg you, Reborn," Luke pleaded, "don't take my father away from me." Tears seemed to burn a path down his face. "I need him, I love him. I will die without him. Have mercy! The mercy he didn't have with you."

Silence stretched on for an eternity. It seemed as if Time itself had stopped to watch the scene unfolding on that small planet, lost in a galaxy, lost in a universe of galaxies, lost in the wink of an eye - exactly the time it took to take a life.

The first to react was Princess Leia. She wrapped her arms around her brother's shoulders and hugged him to her. Her eyes were reddened and swollen as they turned to Reborn.

She didn't know what she could say to change what seemed inevitable, but she had to try. For her father. For her brother. For everyone. For herself.

And for Reborn. Especially for Reborn.

Her eyes met her father's. The blue depths were blank, devoid of all life and light. They only reflected agony and defeat. Surrender. Total, absolute surrender.

"Reborn," she began, in a hoarse voice. "Destiny brought you here today. You needed to face my father and come to terms with what happened that day." She sighed. "But that is not all. If it was, you could have killed him the moment you jumped down on him." She regarded the young man compassionately. "You came here to die too, didn't you?" she stated, in the softest voice.

Reborn's eyes turned to hers slowly, and when they finally met, tears quietly streamed down his cheeks.

Leia nodded and reached out her arm.

"No one will harm you, Reborn. You will not die today. No one has got to die today." Her gaze intensified. "You need help. All of us do. We all paid the greatest price. Many lost their lives; and many are alive, but the war changed them forever and they will never be the same." A lonely tear rolled down her face. "Look at my father. Not as the armoured beast in black who murdered your parents, but as a helpless man whose life lies in your hands now." She tilted her head, in gentle request. "Look at him."

It took a while, but Reborn eventually lowered his gaze and looked down at the Jedi he had come to kill.

"He's not the man who killed your parents anymore. That's the irony of it. You would not be killing Darth Vader, but Anakin Skywalker. A good man who would die for any of us, any day, and at any time."

Reborn ground his teeth, wanting to deny Leia's words.

"Look at him with your heart," Leia went on, her voice shaking increasingly. "A part of him wants to die at your hands, can't you see it? Every minute of his life, he's got to live with the burden of the millions of lives he took, ordered to be destroyed, or died because of his indirect actions. Can you imagine how that must be?" Her dark eyes wandered her father's features sympathetically, adoringly. She shook her head slowly, wetness dampening her face once more. "I can't. And I doubt any of us will ever know. To him, it is fitting to die at your hands. It would give him peace to know it gives _you_ peace." She grabbed her brother's hand and squeezed it tight, needing his touch to get through this without breaking down. "Don't be afraid to look into his eyes. You'll see your pain reflected in them. He's carrying your pain and the pain of millions, every single day."

Reborn's eyes settled on Anakin's face and studied it with a blending of fear, hatred and disgust. But after a few seconds, his look intensified, as he found something he didn't expect to see.

Pain. So much pain and remorse that it seemed impossible that one being could carry and still be alive, and sane.

NO! It couldn't be! This had to be some sort of trick.

But those dead blue eyes didn't lie. Not even he could deny it.

"Look into his eyes and then look into yourself. It is the same pain, Reborn," Leia bit her lower lip, not knowing what kept her talking anymore. "You're the only one who can heal it. And my father's the only one who can heal your own. Acceptance and forgiveness are the only way." Her features softened. "Help each other. Heal each other."

Reborn braved the eyes of his parents' murderer. Anakin could barely hold his close scrutiny, but he forced himself to endure it. He owed it to that young man whose life he had ruined for good. He held nothing back. He shared everything. Every nightmare, every hope, every small joy. He allowed Reborn deeper into the horror he carried inside than he would ever allow his children.

Reborn bit his lips mercilessly until he drew blood. He started shaking his head, part of him fighting the truth that beat out of that broken soul.

Love was the only thing that kept Anakin going. Love for his children and his friends, and their love for him.

As insane as it may seem, Anakin was as much a victim as he was.

His breathing got totally out of control, on the verge of hyperventilating. He swallowed hard, tasting the bitter flavour of hatred and revenge. And his resolution began wavering.

"Is there anything you have to say?" he asked Anakin dryly. He felt he was betraying his parents by allowing their murderer to live. This was the purpose of a lifetime being thwarted by... compassion. The only thing Darth Vader never knew.

For the first time, Anakin spoke.

"If you must kill me to have peace," his voice sounded infinitely old and raspy, "please, don't kill me before my children," he implored. "Have mercy on them. The mercy I didn't have when I killed your parents in front of you. Please, Lagan! I beg of you!" he cried.

The shock of being addressed by his real name was too much for Reborn. He felt as if a part of him that had gone a very long time ago, had just been restored. At least, partially.

Twin tears streamed down Reborn and Anakin's faces as they looked at each other.

With a guttural moan, Reborn lowered his right hand and pushed Anakin with the left. The knife clattered on the floor as the young man fell to his knees, burying his face in his hands.

Anakin collapsed in his children's arms. Leia and Luke wrapped their arms around their father and held him tight, feeding hungrily from the touch they had thought they would never know again.

The older Jedi was barely conscious. He could hardly respond to all the kisses, caresses and tears his children rained on him. The weight of his crimes had crushed his soul. Life felt more a curse than a blessing.

'_It's not a curse, Father. It's a blessing, as long as we honour the lives we took by helping others, and making our own existences worthwhile,'_ Leia's soft, soothing voice resounded in his mind. There was a pause, and then... '_I love you, Father,'_ her mind-voice choked. _'I am so proud of you!'_

Anakin groaned and clutched his daughter to him, kissing her face desperately. He was beyond words. He was shattered. He only craved to be held and disappear in his children's loving warmth.

Luke's caresses roamed his back, as the young man buried his face in his neck and grabbed a handful of his top.

'_What did I ever do to deserve two guardian angels like you? So brave and honest, defending... this?'_ Anakin oozed self-contempt, and worse.

Luke stroked his father's hair.

'_You are our strength, Father. And we are yours. We are a family!' _ He cuddled up to Anakin's body in a burst of searing need.

Then, something inside him reminded him of the destroyed young man whose soft crying could be heard above the jubilant scream of joy echoing in every corner of his heart. And that soft crying crushed his happiness with a brutality that left him breathless.

'_But Reborn's got no one. He will never get back what he lost,'_ he reminded them all. In the midst of the tragedy that had befallen their family, they still could consider themselves lucky.

Anakin stiffened, as Luke's gentle reminder reawakened something inside him.

The older Jedi rose to his feet and turned about, his children's arms still wrapped around him. His gaze settled on the big man who wept like a little boy who had nothing left.

_He_ had taken everything away from him. Even his mental health.

Anakin looked back at his children, and immediately understanding, Luke and Leia closed their eyes and nodded, smiling lovingly at him.

Anakin cupped the much loved faces in his hands and wiped away the tears on them.

Leia and Luke pressed their father's hands to their cheeks, kissing his palms devotedly, giving him all their love.

Drawing strength from his children's devotion and from something inside him he didn't even know he had, Anakin walked up to Reborn. When he was right in front of him, he got down on his knees. Reaching out, he pried the young man's hands away from his face with the utmost tenderness.

Reborn's tear-streaked face appeared before him and, his heart bursting in his chest with a feeling never experienced before, he framed the ravaged face in his hands.

Unbeknown to him, his own face was bathed in tears that fell to the floor one after the other.

Reborn's green eyes looked at him through the million tears he had shed, and the million he still had to cry.

"Forgive me, Lagan. Please, forgive me!"

No words had ever been so inadequate, and yet, they were all it took for the young man to collapse in Anakin's arms, clinging to him for dear life.

Anakin enfolded the big body in his arms and held it tight, until it hurt.

Reborn let out a wail that felt like the pain of an entire world being released.

Anakin buried his face in the long dark hair, soaking it with his tears. He fervently took the young man's pain into his soul. With gratitude.

And the moment Reborn's arms moved around him to return his embrace, the former Darth Vader knew the meaning of the word Peace for the first time since he could remember.

Reborn was a fitting name. For Lagan. For his children. For himself.

For the galaxy.


End file.
